Witches Never Die
by WriKai
Summary: I found my place outside of Sam and Dean and... and Cas. I got used to it. I loved it. And I had to go back, afterwards, and see them all again as I worked for the Men of Letters. I know who I am, now. I just don't know how I fit in with the rest of the world. KyliexCas will finally make a return. Part of a series. Start w/ Believing in the Impossible.
1. Chasing Ghosts (3rd POV)

Castiel didn't know what else to do when Kelly disappeared. Sam and Dean had asked him to not call Mary, but he had no other choice.

He met her at the Bunker, and they sat at opposite ends of the table. Once he had finished explaining, Mary stared at him in a mix of shock and uncertainty. "You left them." She stated.

"No, I… Diana… She forced me to leave. Then the woman…" He tried to explain himself, but Mary cut him off.

"The one you lost?" She asked.

"I didn't." Castiel insisted. "I… I thought that she…" His voice trailed off. He didn't have a good answer.

"Stop making excuses." Mary told him. Castiel did not know much about mothers and fathers, he only knew what he had seen. But he did know that this was his first experience with how a mother acted, especially when she knew her child had made a mistake.

Castiel had worked so hard to stop failing, to be better, and what had he done?

He'd failed.

Castiel looked down, feeling nothing but shame. Mary let out a heavy sigh. "Why," she paused, re-wording her question. "If they needed help, why didn't they call me?"

"You were out." He answered honestly. Mary just let out another sigh.

"How did we let this happen, Castiel?" She asked.

"There's more." He said, reaching up to clasp the ring. "When the Devil disappeared, when we defeated him… There was more."

"What happened?"

"He… He called the witch, Diana," Mary nodded, unable to stop herself from interrupting again.

"What's her last name?" Mary asked. "Or a middle name or a nickname or something?"

"It was Winters." He answered. "Her last name was Winters." He remembered getting it from the hotel valet. "But… Lucifer didn't call her Diana." He took a deep breath. "He called her Kylie."

 _"My name is Mary, by the way." Mary Winchester remembered, sitting at the bar of a diner, waiting for food, next a girl with red hair and dark clothing. She looked like a Hunter, almost, but not quite._

 _"Diana." The girl introduced herself. "But my friends call my Kylie."_

 _"It's nice to meet you, Diana." Mary offered a hand, and Diana shook it firmly, the kind of handshake you would use in a job interview._

"Did she have red hair?" Mary asked. "And wear long sleeves?"

"No, Kylie never did." He answered. "At least, not when I knew her."

"I mean Diana."

"Yes." Castiel answered.

"I… I've met her before." Mary said. "I'm not 100% certain but… I think I have met her."

"When?" He looked up immediately, his voice urgent.

"Months ago." She answered. "On my way to Asa Fox's funeral. But Castiel," her voice softened. "Do you really think it's her?"

"I don't know what to believe." He answered honestly. He wanted it to be Kylie, he wanted it to be true, but if it was… Why would she tell him? Why would she hide and lie? And where had she been? "I… I don't know what to do right now, Mary. I feel as though I have failed at everything."

"I think we both failed." She answered, nodding her head solemnly.

 **…**

If anyone could help him, with any of this, it would be Crowley. Castiel sat opposite of him at a… He was certain the word was cantina. Crowley sat with a drink in front of him, the small pitchfork almost comical, if it weren't such a serious meeting. "Can't help you." Crowley stated, taking a small sip of his drink.

"Come on, Crowley." Castiel pleaded. "The police took them. You have people in the government. You have spies."

"I do." The demon agreed. "But whatever's happened to Moose and Squirrel, apparently, it's above their pay grade."

"Do you even care that they're gone?"

"No." Crowley shook his head. "Do you know how many all-powerful beings have tried to kill them?"

"Roughly, yes."

"As do I. I was bloody one of them! Sam and Dean?" He shrugged, taking another sip. "They're like herpes. Just when you think they're gone… Hello! The boys are back, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. So wherever they are, whoever has Sam and Dean, well…" He put his glass back down on the table. "In the immortal words of Lawrence Tureaud… 'I pity the fool.'"

He got up, giving Castiel a strangely reassuring pat on the back as he walked out. Castiel followed, angry. "Then what about Diana?" He asked.

"What about her?" Crowley didn't look back.

"She's gone, too." Castiel reminded him. "She disappeared."

"Whatever that witch gets up to is none of my business."

"You heard Lucifer too." He argued. "You heard him call her Kylie."

"You thought she was Kylie as well when you first met her." Crowley pointed out.

"I watched." Castiel stated, stopped Crowley from walking away. "Everyone else in that room stared in shock except you. You couldn't wait to get out of there fast enough with Rowena."

"And don't you think she's asked me the same questions as well?" Crowley asked, turning to face the angel. Castiel just glared at him, earning a sigh. "Look, I made a deal, and I intend to keep it. I will not be the one to tell her secrets, not when they're not mine to tell."

"I need to find her." Castiel said, pleading now. "I… I just need to do something right. Do you know where she would go? I know she is not at the cabin." Castiel had already looked there.

Crowley let out a sigh. "She was staying with a woman, a close friend."

"Where is she, the friend?"

Crowley shook his head. "Dead. She was killed in a car crash the day we dispatched Lucifer. Diana…" He looked solemn for a moment. "She learned three days later. That was when I lost contact with her."

"Do you know where she would go?" Castiel begged. Crowley contemplated something for a moment before answering.

"She was offered a position in London." He said. "Working for the Men of Letters. None of my people have reported seeing her, but she's smart, and powerful." He looked away. "She may be gone already."

 **…**

Castiel kept searching until he gave up, hopeless. It was then that he met with Mary Winchester a second time. He hadn't seen her since he'd told her everything.

Actually, she was the one to ask to meet him.

"Thanks for meeting me." Mary greeted him, a beer already in front of her. "I just wanted to say…" She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. I was angry, and… Sam and Dean, that's not your fault. Neither is Diana."

"No, you were right." Castiel argued. "I should never have left them. I should never have stopped looking for Kylie. I…" He stopped himself from rambling, switching instead to a possibly more hopeful topic. "Have you heard anything?"

Castiel's hopes fell when Mary shook her head. "All my law enforcement contacts are retired, or… dead." She answered with a sigh. "I'm trying, but… You?" Castiel shook his head as well. "I keep telling myself they're fine." Mary said, her gaze wistful as she thought about her sons. "They've only been gone," this time, it was Castiel's turn to cut her off.

"Six weeks, two days, and ten hours." He said. That was the part he hated about being an angel. He knew. He knew the exact time that he'd been failing them, knew how long he'd gone before he'd just… Given up hope.

"We'll find them, Castiel." Mary assured him. "We will. Until then, we just… We're doin' our best."

"Are we?" Castiel asked. "Did you hear about the murders in Lancaster, Missouri?"

"No."

"The women with their throats ripped out, the blood drained?"

"Vampire." Mary stated, her analysis instantaneous and more than likely accurate. Castiel nodded in agreeance.

"I saw it on the news and I thought, that's the sort of thing Sam and Dean would investigate, or…" He couldn't say her name this time, so he kept going. "They would roll into town, save the day, kill the monsters. But with them gone…" He remembered that new failure, his most recent one. "I tried to work the case. I tried." He let out a bitter laugh, the kind that Sam and Dean would release. "But… I don't know what I did wrong. I… I asked questions, but maybe they were the wrong people, or the wrong questions, and I just- I never found it. Never found the monster. Never even got close." He remembered seeing the bodies, remembered each and every one of them as clearly as though they were still in front of them. That was another thing he hated about being an angel. No matter what he did, he couldn't forget. "And three more women died before I left town. Before I ran away."

"So we go back." Mary offered. "You and me."

"No." Castiel said firmly. "No, I'd only get in your way."

"I don't think Kylie would want you to run." She said softly. "I think she would want you to try, to keep going."

"She didn't even want me to know she was alive."

"Maybe…" Mary thought. "Maybe she wanted you to keep going with your own life, and not be stuck in the past. Maybe she believed you would do better without her."

Castiel hoped the latter wasn't true.

 **…**

He went to her grave again. He didn't know where else to go. It was a false one, now he knew, but he wasn't certain what exactly to do about it. It'd helped him try and cope for a while, but now he didn't know what else to do.

"Kylie," he said, hoping she would hear him. "Kylie, please. I… I don't know anymore if you're alive or dead. For so long, I wanted you to be alive, wanted to do anything and everything I could to bring you back. I felt so guilty, and I still do, for you being gone. But now, with you possibly being alive…" He took a deep breath. "I want it to be true. I want it to be true so much that I'm almost happy about it. Except… I don't understand why you hid from me. I don't get it, and it bothers me so much. Why would you feel like you need to hide? Do you… Are you afraid of me?" That question bothered him just as much as the possible answers. "Are you hiding from something else, are you trying to protect people?" That was the one he preferred. "I… I would understand if my choice to become Lucifer's vessel would cause you to desire a separation, but I just…" None of this was working for him.

Absolutely none of it.

"I'm thankful that you may not be dead after all." He finally said. "And I still love you. I doubt that I'll ever stop. But now that you're alive, I have one more request." He reached up, gripping her ring tightly in his hand. "Please come back to me, now. I miss you. I want you back. Please, just... Please come back."

 **…**

When Dean called, Castiel called Mary directly afterwards. They needed reinforcements, next, so he called the only people he could think to.

He called the British Men of Letters.

Mary wasn't exactly pleased about them being there, but it was better than nothing. Her scoffing at help from Crowley and Rowena…

He wasn't certain how she could be more kind-seeming towards Diana being a witch than them. That was what perplexed him about humans.

They met up with Mr. Ketch and Mick later on.

"This is your idea?" Mary asked. "The people that almost killed my boys? They're gonna be our backup? Suddenly the demon and his mommy don't look so bad."

"They helped us with Lucifer." Castiel reminded him.

"Lucifer? The Lucifer?" Mick cut in, surprised.

"Yes."

"Wait, so you're telling me what happened in Indianapolis was you took on the bleedin' devil himself?" He continued.

"Yes."

"Is that what Diana was using the Hyperbolic Pulse Generator for? Fighting the Devil?" Castiel nodded at Ketch's question. "Did you win? Did she do it?"

"Yes." Castiel answered, his voice tight. Mick and Ketch shared an impressed glance.

"Bravo." Ketch commented.

Mary interrupted then, to explain what they needed. Sam and Dean were taken, and according to the gentlemen they were at a government Black Ops facility in the Rocky Mountain National Forest.

"They told us to meet them off State Route 34." Cas added.

"Well, that's a long stretch of road." Ketch commented. "Where, exactly?"

"I'm not sure." Castiel answered.

"I'll get our techs to put a satellite over the area." Mick promised.

"You can do that?" Mary sounded impressed.

"And so much more." Mick added, offering her a sly smile. Castiel started to follow Mary and Mick to the car, but Ketch stopped him.

"The witch, Diana…" He asked. "Is she alright?"

"I don't know." Castiel answered. If he was calling her Diana, then he didn't know the truth. Not a lot of people would. "She disappeared. Nobody has heard from her since. Have you seen anything of her?"

"No." Ketch answered, shaking his head. "And it bothers me. We are built to find all information, but we cannot discern her location."

Castiel looked down. The Men of Letters had been his last hope of finding Diana… Kylie… Whoever she wanted to be. He wasn't certain, and all he wanted was answers. He looked back up, steeling his face. They were about to get Sam and Dean. If Diana or Kylie wanted to stay hidden and gone, why not let her? She had stayed hidden for a long time already, hadn't she?

 **…**

Ketch watched Castiel walk off to join Mary and Mick, and glanced over beside him. "You sure you want to keep hiding?" He asked the shadows.

Kylie appeared with a slight shimmer. Any pretense or disguise that she had formerly worn was gone. "Yes." She said. "It's better this way."

"The bloke looks concerned for you."

"He wouldn't be if he knew the whole truth." She answered. "Did you see the look on his face? He wasn't happy. He was angry. He doesn't want me around."

"Whatever you say, Miss." He said. "How was your visit to Mrs. Tran's grave?" That had been one of the conditions. Kylie would return, but she was allowed one personal stop first.

"Therapeutic." She answered. She decided not to mention meeting with Billie there. It had been nice to see her again. Billie told her that Mrs. Tran said hello, and that she'd done something almost impossible to do. Mrs. Tran had somehow badgered the angels in to allowing her visiting rights to Kevin's personal Heaven, alongside getting to keep her own as well. Only Mrs. Tran.

"We best be going." Ketch said. He glanced back over at her, and watched as she disappeared once more.

"Sounds good." She agreed.

 **…**

Castiel didn't know that Kylie watched Billie die. In turn, Kylie hadn't known about the deal Sam and Dean had struck with Billie.

She almost screamed when Castiel killed the Reaper. Billie had been her friend. She had helped her, saved her, trained her. She had helped.

"Cas, what have you done?" Dean asked. He didn't seem abhorred, though. Just… Shocked. Surprised. He didn't care. Billie had gotten them out, had helped them before, and now she was dead and they didn't care.

"What had to be done." Castiel answered, his voice haggard and ragged. "You know this world- this sad, doomed little world- it needs you. It needs every last Winchester it can get, and I will not let you die." He sounded determined, more determined than I'd heard him be in a long time. "I won't let any of you die. And I won't let you sacrifice yourselves. You mean too much to me. To everything. Yeah, you made a deal. It was a stupid deal, and I broke it." It looked like a scene out of one of my nightmares. Castiel had just murdered someone I cared about, and was now… Something was broken inside of him, something that wouldn't be fixed anytime soon.

He was done. He was absolutely done with the world, and damn the consequences of his actions. Damn the world, damn Heaven and Hell, damn this whole big mess that we all lived in. He was just… Broken and done. There was no better way to describe it.

He was a Winchester, now. He had just broken a cosmic pact, something he knew the full repercussions of.

Kylie knew them, because Billie had told her.

"You're welcome." Castiel said.

Kylie waited for them to leave before calling Ketch and Mick, to let them know what had happened. Then she buried Billie's body. Kylie mused briefly on the fact that Reapers actually left bodies behind. Billie deserved a proper burial, though. She would've probably preferred it. So that's what Kylie did.

It was her second time seeing a grave in two weeks, and more than enough dead friends for her lifetime, though she knew there would be more. As she stood above Billie's grave, she hoped that this would be the last one she would ever make, but knew that that wouldn't be true.

It probably wouldn't stop until she herself was dead. But who would lead her to the afterlife now? Some other reaper, definitely, but it wouldn't be Billie.

And in all honesty, Kylie wasn't willing to trust any other Reaper except for her.


	2. Thomason Jones

I fell in love with the city. I fell in love with the sounds and the sights and yes, even the smells. It was somewhere foreign and new and different, and I was out there, exploring and learning and most importantly, safe.

I had a job as a journalist for a local paper. The Men of Letters had taken my past work experience and gotten me something that I could even continue with in my travels, just writing whatever I want and seeing it published under the pseudonym Nyx. Alongside that, I went and learned from the Men of Letters. They had people who knew spells I only read about or hadn't even seen in the Bunker Libraries. I didn't even have to create a computer catalogue of them, they had a library-esque index already set up for me to search.

In return, I was to show them how I did what I did, how I was able to make up spells on the spot if needed, and how I thought through them. I could see the explanations not quite sticking, and in truth they didn't fully stick with me either. It was science and magic and a sort of mumbo-jumbo Frankenstein mash-up from my own head.

And with it came new ways to try and combat monsters. Field testing different spells I had only imagined working out, different ways of healing people. Testing which spells their predecessors had written out long before hand and quite simply had never gotten the opportunity to test. Not all of them worked, many blew up in my face, but those that did… It felt like straight up Hogwarts days. I was happy, here, genuinely happy. I was getting better, getting back in control of my powers. I was… I was just better, now. Better and happy.

Lonely, yeah, but happy. I was safe. I was doing good things. I was…

Yeah, I was lonely. I was still a bit of an outcast. It didn't matter that I was one of them, now, I was still a witch. I could still see the glares and sideways glances and the few of them that would clutch a cross or a star or some religious article just out of habit.

No matter how much I loved the change of scenery, the first two weeks were hard. Those were the days when people were more open about their apprehension. Nobody would speak to me unless required to. I was an American witch. I was different. I was foreign. I didn't belong, and they were just waiting for the moment I slipped up so they could complain and send me away.

I shouldn't have been surprised when one of them had a Hunter follow me. Lady Bevell. She was the one that tortured Sam and Dean. She wasn't really big on Americans as a whole.

The Hunter she picked to follow me, however, wasn't exactly as skilled as Sam and Dean were. I noticed him the day he started, and let him follow me around for the next week until I confronted him.

I led him in to a small alley, like Sam and Dean would've done, before pinning him against the wall. The knife he'd pulled once he entered the alley clattered to the ground. "Who are you?" I asked him, my voice calm as I held him there with my power. "And why are you following me?" He chose not to answer, not at first, and I rolled my eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, you idiot." I muttered, letting him down. He fell with a sharp intake of breath, staring up at me in confusion. "What? You thought I would?" I asked, walking towards him. I picked up the knife he dropped, looking it over for a minute. The engravings were well done, and the blade itself pure iron. If he stabbed me with it, it would light my insides on fire.

Or at least it would, if I was a normal witch.

What bothered me, though, was it's age. Very well kept up with, something difficult to do with iron, but at the same time the work done on it was truly impeccable. The Men of Letters, however, liked to keep their things new. Someone inside must've sent him, yes, they order all the Hunters around, but they also tend to equip them better.

They didn't care if he quite exactly was prepared or not.

"Who sent you?" I asked. "I know it's Men of Letters, I work for them." That got some surprise out of the guy. "Oh yeah." I pulled out the pendant they'd given me, the one I wore around my neck as proof. "I'm a strange witch. Now I'll ask again, before I turn you in to Ketch, who are you, and who told you to follow me?" That made him physically pale.

"My name is Thomason Jones." He answered, his voice shaky. "Lady…" He took a deep breath. "Lady Bevell told me you were dangerous, and needed to be monitored."

"And she sent a Hunter because you're not Men of Letters." I answered. "And therefor harder to expose in case you are caught, as well as much more disposable to her." I shook my head. "That bitch!"

"Excuse me?"

"What?" I asked, offering him back the hilt of his blade. "Am I wrong?" Thomason just kind of stared at the blade, the weapon I was freely giving back to him. "I know you can't hurt me, and I also know that I won't hurt you, even if you try against me." I explained. "There's no point in me keeping this. It's obviously something that belongs to you, I'm guessing hunting runs in your family." When he didn't respond, just kept up that surprised look, I tilted the handle so I could see the edge of it. Initials were written on it, T.J., but they weren't new. They were carved there a long time ago.

"It was my grandfather's." He finally answered. "I was… I was named after him."

"Cool." He took it from me hesitantly, and was quick to sheath it once it was within his grasp. "Mind if I call you T.J. then? Thomason is just a mouthful."

"I… I guess?" I smiled brightly. "Great. Now I'm gonna call Lady Bevell."

"Wait!" T.J. shouted as I pulled out my phone.

"What?"

"You… You're calling Lady Bevell." He said. "Not Ketch or Mick or the Old Men?"

"Of course not." I said. "Bevell is the one that told you to follow me, right? Probably told you I was dangerous and not to be trusted as well?" He nodded, slowly, almost as though he was still a little dazed. "Then it's her problem with me, not anyone else's. I'll call her."

"She…" He took a deep breath. "She won't be too kind to me when she learns you found me out."

"Please, she was probably wanting me to hurt you." I muttered. That got another round of wide eyes. "She didn't equip you, did she?" He shook his head. "Just told you it would be a basic witch tracking?" A nod. "And what did she promise in return?"

"To help me join the Men of Letters." He answered meekly.

"Yeah, that's a not gonna happen scenario." I said. "Bevell has been trying to get me out since I showed up. She was just using you." I watched as his face fell. "Sorry."

"So… I won't be allowed to pledge?" He asked. "I won't get to learn how to become a Men of Letters?" I shook my head.

"Not with Bevell's offer." I answered. "Sorry about that." T.J. lowered his head, looking defeated. That's when I really took a good look at him. His skin was dark, with just a bit of olive mixed in, and his hoodie was a faded navy blue. He wore lighter colored jeans, ones that contrasted heavily against the rest of him, but in all honesty his hair reminded me of Billie's. A little wild and unruly and determined to not be tamed.

But he also looked nice. Kind. Eager. About the same age as me.

"Thank you for telling me." He finally said, removing me from my thoughts. "I guess I ought to go back home now."

"Hold on." I stopped him, forcing him to look back up at me. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-one." He answered.

"You should go to college," I stopped for a second myself, correcting the words. "Sorry, university. Or travel. Or just get out of the Hunting life in general."

"It's the family business." He answered. "It's what my father did and his father and his father before him. It's just something we all do." He shrugged. "I don't know what else I would do, and university isn't quite for me."

I thought on that for a little bit. "You said Bevell would try and screw you over, right?" I asked. He nodded. "I'm gonna fix that for you real quick." I still had my phone out, and I had her number. I dialed it quickly, and waited for her to respond.

"Kylie!" She sounded like she had to force herself to be happy. "What a pleasant surprise! How has your afternoon been?"

"Quite interesting." I responded. "I just met this great guy, and I wanted to tell you all about him!"

"Really, as much as I'd love to talk about boys with you, dear girl," I gritted my teeth at that. "I'm afraid I have important Men of Letters business to attend to."

"You mean like lying to a Hunter and having him tail me?" I asked. There was silence on the other end of the line, and T.J. frantically waved his hands in a "NO" fashion. I disregarded him and kept talking. "Oh yeah. I've known since he started." He stared at me, confused, and I put a hand over the phone to speak to T.J.. "What?" I asked. "You stared too much, your footsteps were in line with mine, and you continually left maybe two seconds after I did. You really need to give it a bit more time to seem natural about it." I turned my attention back to the phone. "In any case, I'm not hurting or killing him, however I do believe you promised something to him."

"I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about." She finally said. I raised an eyebrow.

"Sure you don't. Now I can either call Mick and let him know that this is how you treat new operatives," I left a pause for her to answer. She didn't, so I continued. "Or you can do two things for me. Keep your promise to Thomason here, and leave me the hell alone. We're on the same side, I work with you, get over it."

There was silence on her end for a long time before she finally spoke. "Fine." She gritted out. I will… Send in my letter of recommendation for Thomason Jones to begin his formal training."

"Thank you!" I cheered, my voice dripping with sickly sweet happiness. "I'm so glad we finally understand each other! Oh, and one more thing." I added on. "Try anything like this again with me, and I won't bother with a courtesy call. I'll just go straight up the chain to your superiors." I hung up on her, smiling an actual victorious smile at Thomason as I pocketed my phone. "There. You've got a chance, now."

"How did you do that?"

"I'm a very snarky, very determined American woman that has a problem with authority and bitchy managers." I stated. "There isn't really a lot she could do that I wouldn't figure out a way around. Besides, she's already on thin ice." I watched as T.J. worked through what I was saying. "Getting caught for this can't really help her, can it?"

"Who are you?" He asked.

"Kylie." I offered a hand, and after a moment's hesitation he shook it. "Kylie Dillinger, American witch."

"T.J., I guess." He said, offering me a confused smile and nod. "British Hunter and now, apparently thanks to you, initiate for the Men of Letters."

"Great to meet you." I said, withdrawing my hand. "Have a nice day."

"You're leaving?" T.J. asked as I strode off.

"I have to get back to my apartment." I said, still walking. "My hellhound is waiting for me." A second later, T.J. was walking beside me.

"You have a hellhound?" He asked. "The Men of Letters let you have a hellhound?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "I proved that she won't hurt them and that the ingredients gained from her being around and pretty damn tame are actually extremely beneficial."

"So you just happen to have a hellhound? And it doesn't frighten you?"

"Not really."

"And you're a witch?"

"Yeah."

"Does that mean you're going to hell when you die?" He asked. "We've encountered demons that were witches or warlocks before their passing."

"That's actually a good question." I said. "I've got angel grace inside of me, so I've never actually had to pledge any allegiance to a specific demon or to Lucifer and whatnot, but at the same time I was trained by the King of Hell, whose mother is a witch, so I guess it could go either way."

"You… You…" T.J. sounded pretty confused. "You have angel grace?"

"Yes."

"And a demon has a mother?"

"Yes."

"Who is a witch as well?"

"Yes."

"Does the other witch have angelic grace inside of her as well?"

"Nope."

"And this said demon is the King of Hell?"

"Yes."

"The King of Hell has a mother?"

"Don't most demons and people in general?"

"Does that mean he isn't Lucifer?"

"Correct."

"And the King of Hell trained you to be a witch?"

"It was pretty desperate circumstances." I admitted, rounding a corner. T.J. followed beside me, looking as though his head was swimming. "Lucifer had just tried to kill me, and God's sister was a pretty big threat."

"Hold on a tick." T.J. said. I stopped, turning to face him. "Are you playing a practical joke on me?"

"Do I look like I am?" I dared him, raising an eyebrow.

"Dear God…" He muttered. "You're not."

"Welcome to the American world of Hunting." I muttered. We were almost to my apartment.

"I… I have more questions." He said.

"And I have a hellhound waiting two blocks down and twelve floors up for a bit of outside time and a burger." I responded. "So unless you're willing to put up with all of that, I'll see you in training."

"I'm willing to put up with everything." He answered quickly. This shocked me.

"You're a Hunter." I reminded him. "And she's a hellhound."

"Will she…" He struggled to find the appropriate words. "Will she bite me?"

"Not unless you try to kill her."

"Then I think it will be manageable." He said. "As long as you aren't bothered by my prying."

I thought on that for a few moments. For the past two weeks, all my life had been was go to Men of Letters, go back to apartment. No outside friends or socializing, people weren't quite warming up to me enough for that. I had no friends here to talk with, and in all honesty calling Crowley wasn't something I was ready to do just yet. I didn't have a number for Billie, and I knew if she just showed up at my summoning alarms would go off like crazy. That was why Karma had stayed at the apartment. I was still working on getting the engravings right on her collar so that she WOULDN'T call down Ketch and a squad of Hunters that quite simply just wouldn't know.

I was actually taking her out for a walk to test some new ones. Ketch would call if I set off alarms.

"No." I finally said. "No, I… I don't mind." I clarified. "I wouldn't mind a friend."

"I've been following you for the past week, and you want me to be your mate?" He asked. I shrugged.

"Has anything I've said to you or done so far make you think I'm a normal person?" I asked in response. I could see him mull it over for a moment.

"Fair enough." He conceded. We resumed walking back towards my apartment, talking the whole way.

That was when things started looking up, when I really started enjoying being in London. Word travelled fast around the Men of Letters too, including the rumors that I had put Lady Toni Bevell in her place and that I had gotten a Hunter in as an initiate. This created a definition for whether people approved of me or wanted my head.

I was thankful that more people appreciated me for that versus those that didn't. Apparently Bevell pissed off a fair amount of people, and they were all happy that I hadn't taken any of her shit.

And I had a friend with me, now – T.J.. He got put with me for training, now, as my partner. It was smart for trainees to work in pairs, so that they had another to learn from with different ideas as well as someone to watch your back and make sure you didn't get killed.

It was almost like having a permanent lab partner for classes, and one that I could easily get along with. If there were different charms or spells I wanted to field test, T.J. went with me as backup. If it was Thursday night and pints sounded good, we went and snagged some pints. If it was a Sunday afternoon and I was taking Karma for a walk or training with her for physical defensive situations, T.J. came as well and gave critique. I set him up with glasses so he could see her after that first day, because it was obvious T.J. intended on being around after then.

He just kind of… Kind of stuck around, and it was honestly exactly what I needed. A friend to help me adjust.


	3. The First Assignment

Our first small assignment together was easy. We got it maybe a week after T.J. got put as my partner (it was the norm for trainees to be partnered with another so that they didn't just get killed out on their own). Gather intel, report back, and decide a course of action from there. It was basically Hunting, but with better weapons and technology at our disposal.

There had been reports of a lot of weird shit happening out in Scotland. They weren't as well set up as we were in London, so they wanted to send myself and T.J. out to investigate. Neither of us minded too much. I knew T.J. had been wanting to get back out from the books (a week of just reading and studies after years of Hunting gave him serious cabin fever fast. He practically begged me to go take him out with me when I walked Karma), and Karma needed a chance to run around freely.

I just needed an opportunity to work without fear.

It wasn't clear yet as to what we were dealing with. Crop failures, sick livestock, and a drought all out in Edinburgh, although how in the hell you get a drought from a town near the ocean… I wasn't quite certain what we were dealing with as of yet, but I was damn impressed. They had given us a few basic tools to dispatch the creatures much easier, however we were free to field test any new ideas if deemed necessary.

The pair of us deemed it highly necessary. Well, when I say the pair of us, I mean that I deemed it necessary, and convinced T.J. that it'd be more fun to test them out on banshee than it would be to just keep them as hypothetical simulations (or to use him as my test subject for the broad ones with no specifics on banshees or other particular creatures).

We flew there, but I promised that we wouldn't need a flight back. T.J. didn't seem pleased about that part, but I assured him that I'd done it before.

"It'll be fun!" I added on. We were airborne, maybe an hour away from landing. "Think about it! We go in, we collaborate with the local Men of Letters and Hunters in Edinburgh, and get it all sorted out before Thursday."

"They're not answering, though." T.J. reminded me. "Calls have been made. And we're not even supposed to be technically Hunting or solving anything. This is supposed to be purely reconnaissance so that a better idea of what is happening can be formed, and afterwards a more equipped team can go in and eliminate the threat."

"T.J., you've been studying!" I exclaimed, giving him a playful look.

"I want to do this right."

"And we will." I assured him. "We're going to do this perfectly right! We go in, investigate and run recon, pop back to my apartment, sorry, flat," T.J. had been educating me on how to sound less like a tourist. "Report in what we find, and relax with I'm thinking should be some really crappy cartoons and checking out whether or not any of the guys you swiped right on for Tinder swiped back."

"I still feel more than slightly violated that you chose to investigate in to my personal life." He stated. I shrugged.

"Old habits die hard." I stated. "Besides, the only reason you didn't do the same is because I've got better internet security than you do."

"Actually, it was because I believed in ASKING." He retorted.

"Same difference."

It was kind of amazing. We hadn't been around each other long, but we just… We kind of just got along.

I just wished that my magic would stabilize with it. I knew that I wanted to use it on this expedition, but at the same time, I was secretly afraid that it would fail me.

T.J. didn't know about the problems. Nobody did. If they did, they would stop trusting me.

So I wanted this for two reasons, I guess. A chance to stabilize myself, and a chance to get out there in what I was somewhat familiar with in an unfamiliar environment.

Once we got there, I summoned Karma to my side and we followed protocol (fun fact: This was probably the first time in my life that I ever actually followed any protocol) and reported to the Men of Letters base in Edinburgh. It was a small one, run by locals, and purely there to serve as an emergency base and as a branch in Scotland.

It was funny, the entrance actually reminded me of the one in Kansas. I banged on it hard. "Pizza delivery!" I shouted, earning an entertained glance from T.J. at that. "You're right. Scratch that." I banged on the door again. "Alcohol delivery!" "What?" I asked.

"The passcode phrase." T.J. prompted me. I smirked.

"You're the one who's been studying." I pointed out. "I figured you would want to say it."

He let out a small huff, but he wasn't annoyed, I could tell. "Nos ecce enim scientia, ex fratribus nostris." We seek science from our brothers. He smirked at me, triumphant for just a moment.

That is, until the door decided to not open and reveal the four that were supposed to be on duty. I turned back to look at T.J., both of us confused. "Maybe you said it wrong?" I offered.

"I didn't." He stated, his expression shifting from one of worry to one of determination. "You said you could pick locks with magic, right?"

"Why?"

"Give these a shot."

"Can't." I answered. That was a bit of a lie. I might be able to, but I wasn't certain. "This is warded by the Men of Letters. I may be practicing with working around their wardings," T.J. cut me off.

"Practicing that is, by the way, highly frowned upon." He reminded me. I rolled my eyes.

"Call it consulting on what's wrong with their work." I rephrased. He offered me his own eye roll. "Anyways, even with my attempts to consult on their errors that have so far, only resulted in finally figuring out how to make sure Karma doesn't set off alarms everywhere," at the mention of her name, she sat up a little prouder. "I can't promise that I can open this lock without running the risk of setting off at least seven self-destruct sequences, three of which would more than likely kill US along with it."

"Really?" He asked. "That many?"

"I did my own research too." I pointed out. "Safety protocols. What gets set off, in which orders, and by what attempts to gain entry."

"And with all that research you can't work around them?"

"Not without practice." I answered. That was truthful enough. "And this needs some serious practice."

"What happened to your, what did you call it?" He pretended to think for a moment. "Ah, yes, your self-attributed 'Devil may care' attitude."

"I care a little more when it's someone else's life at stake along with mine."

"So I'll take steps back however many meters you tell me to."

"Not worth the risk." I said, reaching in to my pocket. "However, in case of emergency," I thought for a moment, looking around. "See that boulder over there?" I asked, pointing to the rock pretty far in the distance. "How many meters would you say that is?"

"A little over one hundred." He answered. "Give or take. Why?"

I pulled out the object in my pocket, a Men of Letters key. "Pulled this off of Lady Bevell day three." I stated. "It opens every door in to the London base. I'm probably not supposed to have this." T.J. stared at me in shock. "A "Devil may care" attitude, especially when you've actually had your life threatened by said Devil a minimum of two times, leaves you with a few less inhibitions when it comes to getting some petty revenge against someone that really hates you."

"You could face serious reprimands if the Old Men find out."

"So don't tell them." I replied. "Please?"

He let out a low sigh. "Why am I moving over 100 meters away from you?"

"This key opens any door in the Men of Letters Base stationed in London." I stated. "Many of those doors also happen to be warded by similar spells kept on the front door in case of emergency." I glanced at the key, then back at T.J., offering him a small smile. "Very difficult to make these types of keys. Very intricate spellwork required, embedded within layers of salt and iron so that they cannot be altered unless the key is broken and at that point, obviously unable to work." I turned to the door. "How much do you want to bet that they hire the same locksmith?"

"You want to test a possible key?"

"If the Old Men ask, I opened the door with magic due to a warding weakness we will create when we get inside." I stated, continuing to stare at the door. "Get back to that boulder. If I remember correctly, one of the safeguards for unwanted entry is the warding on the door itself to activate," I muttered, looking down at my chest. "And set on fire the internal organs of everyone within a 66 foot, or 20 meter, range."

"Don't die." T.J. encouraged. I nodded, and he jogged away to the boulder I'd pointed out. I waited until he gave me a thumbs up, then turned my attention to the key in my hand.

"Karma, protect T.J." I ordered quietly. She bolted off to be next to him, reaching the boulder much quicker than he had. I took one final look at the key. "Please don't kill me." I muttered, inserting it in to the lock. Moment of truth, here. I turned it, holding my breath as the tumblers clicked in to place.

The door opened without any difficulties. I waited a few minutes, putting one hand on my stomach as I pushed the door open with the other.

It opened quietly, but there was no backlash. No internal organs on fire. No exploding building. No anything.

I turned back to T.J. "All clear!" I shouted. He started to jog back, Karma easily outdistancing him, but when he got about halfway there he stopped, his expression absolutely terrified.

"KYLIE!" He screamed. I turned around, and the smell of sea brine and wet horse hitting me just a second before I actually saw the big, shadowy hoof aim itself straight for my face.

Another shadow blurred past me, Karma's bark thundering out as she slammed her body in to the other creature. Both of them fell in to the base, and I ran after them.

"What in the bloody hell is that?!" T.J. shouted following me.

"I don't know!" Both of us stopped at the top of the stairs, fully taking in the carnage that was the Scotland branch. It was obvious as to what had happened to the four sentries that had been here. They were all dead, strewn out about the main room. Karma bit at the horse legs of the other creature, one that I could actually see now. It looked a bit like a centaur, except the part that was supposed to be a man's torso was attached to the back of what looked like a hellhound in horse form. There were no legs to the man's torso, it kind of just… Rose up like a tumor, with an iron chain around its neck, leading up to a surprisingly large head with piercing red eyes. Its arms, however, were long and sinewy, batting away at Karma as she went for the horses fish-like legs. The grossest part, though, was that the shadow was just that, shadow. No skin underneath, nothing to particularly hide the creature's black blood coursing through tinted yellow veins, nor did it hide the pale sinews and bulky muscles of the creature, moving with each swing like one large pulsating mass of grossness.

If it has exposed skin, it may burn.

I pushed my hands out, praying for fire to exude from me and on to the creature. Instead, I got the opposite – water. Freshwater, pouring from me like a fire hose and on to the creature attacking my dog.

The man's head on top of the torso howled in pain the second the water touched it, recoiling away from Karma to glare up at me. "KARMA!" I screamed, shoving T.J. out the door as I grabbed the door handle. "OUTSIDE!"

The second she evaporated away from the creature, my magic water stopped working. I didn't care, though. I stepped outside with T.J., slamming the door shut as hard and fast as I could before re-locking it. I could hear a hard slam from the other side, followed by a stream of words I didn't know the meaning of at all, but at the same time was quite certain as to the intent behind them.

"What in the bloody hell WAS THAT?!" T.J. repeated, staring at me for a moment. "And HOW in the BLOODY HELL did you know that WATER would hurt it?"

"I didn't." I answered honestly, taking labored breaths. Karma limped over to me, and licked my palm.

"THEN WHY DID YOU USE IT?!"

"Honestly?" I asked. He nodded. "I actually meant to burn the thing."

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"You're a Hunter." I stated. "Why are you freaking out?"

"Do you know how rare instances are in London?" He asked. "The worst I've had to deal with in the past was tracking down a singular werewolf."

"Really?" I asked, squinting a little. "You're serious?"

"Absolutely." He answered. "Why? Do monsters and beasts just run amuck in America?"

"Actually, kind of." I replied. He shook his head, pulling out his cell phone. "What are you doing?"

"I'm following protocol." He answered, dialing a number. "Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Good." He turned his attention from me to his phone. "This is Thomason Jones. I need to speak with Arthur Ketch." Ketch was in charge of overseeing our training. He was the one that had sent us here. T.J. waited a few moments before speaking again. "Mr. Ketch, we have a Class 4 emergency situation. The four operatives stationed in Edinburgh are dead, with an unknown creature residing inside the base." He paused, listening to instructions. "Myself and Ms. Dillinger are fine." He paused again. "Yes sir." He tossed me the phone.

"Hello?"

"How did you get in to the base?" Ketch asked first.

"The door was unlocked." I answered. "Huge safety risk. Gave us our first tip that something was wrong."

"And I assume Lady Bevell's request for a new key is completely unrelated, correct?" He asked.

"Absolutely."

"You realize you will have to return it, right?"

"I will when she apologizes." I answered, thinking for a moment. "And buys me good pizza, not the crap from the American section at the supermarket."

"She could report this infraction to the Old Men, and have you brought in for reprimands."

"But for some reason hiring someone to tail a new asset isn't ground for reprimands as well?" I pointed out. Ketch knew. We both agreed it was best to not bring it up unless necessary. Ketch let out a sigh.

"What did the creature look like?" He asked. I gave him a run-down of what had happened, including the negative effects of freshwater on the damn thing. "I see." He said when I was finished. "We'll arrange for you to stay in a nearby hotel for the night, and tomorrow morning a removal team will meet you there to deal with the creature."

"Call me the second you know what it is." I requested. "I might be able to figure out a few spells to help."

"Agreed." Ketch said. "I'll text the pair of you your overnight details shortly." Then he hung up. I tossed the phone back to T.J.

"Know any good places for food here?" I asked. "It seems as though we're staying the night."

"What are our orders?"

"Wait for further instructions." I said. "And for the removal team to meet us tomorrow morning." My phone buzzed, as did T.J.'s. I took a look at mine. A hotel address, with the reservation under the name Magnus. "Come on. We're in the middle of nowhere." I muttered. "Let's see if we can get a cab or hitchhike or something."


	4. Scottish Mythology

I started researching the second I got Wi-Fi at the hotel, and T.J. wasn't that far behind me on it. Shadow creature. Part centaur? Evil. Speaking gibberish.

"It wasn't gibberish." T.J. corrected me.

"Then what was it?"

"Celtic."

"Who the hell speaks Celtic?"

"Not Google." He answered. "The closest it will do is Irish."

"Do you even know what the thing said?"

"No."

"Then how do you know it was Celtic?"

"Because I know what that was." He answered.

"You wanna tell me?"

"It's a Nuckelavee." He said. "A Scottish monster that is apparently the most malevolent demonic entities in and around the Scottish islands. The nuckelavee's breath was thought to wilt crops, make livestock sick, and is considered to be responsible for epidemics and drought."

"Great." I muttered. "There's the crop failures, the sick cows, and the spontaneous drought near the ocean. Anything on there as to why water hurts it, or how in the hell to get rid of the thing?"

"The only entity able to control it is the Mither o' the Sea," he read. "An ancient spirit in Orcadian mythology who apparently keeps the nuckelavee confined during the summer. And as for the water, the nuckelavee is unable to wade through fresh flowing water, therefore to escape the thing you have to cross a stream to be safe."

"And for us Americans, what exactly is a 'Mither o' the Sea?'"

"You think I know?"

"You're British."

"We're in Scotland."

"Eh. Close enough." I muttered.

"A Mither o' the Sea is actually big in Scottish folklore." He said, apparently deciding to ignore my comments. "She is a mythical being of Orcadian folklore that lives in the sea during summer, when she confines the demonic nuckelavee with her in the ocean. Each spring she battles with her arch-enemy, Teran," I offered him a second confused look. "Think of it like the Scottish Devil. He's another spirit in Orcadian and Scottish legends that's capable of causing severe winter storms, all to gain control of the seas and the weather."

"So we're dealing with the Scottish version of Ragnarok?" I asked. T.J. continued to ignore my quips.

"Eventually," he read. "Sea Mither overcomes Teran and sends him to the depths of the ocean, but the effort of keeping him confined there along with her other benevolent labours during the summer exhaust her, until in the autumn Teran takes advantage of her weakness to wrest control from her once again."

"And what about winter?" I asked. "Do you think a nuckelavee could escape her briny depths during freezing weather?"

"It's possible, I guess." He said. "Although I'm not certain."

"Well, we'll have to roll with the possible, then." I said. "Because one is on the loose and really, really needs to be thrown back in the ocean." I thought for a minute. "Where in the hell is this Sea Warden supposed to live, either, beside the ocean?"

"I've got…" He thought for a minute. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing." He turned from his computer to look at me. "Maybe you can attempt some sort of homing spell? You said you used one for Lucifer, correct?"

"Yeah, except with that I had a piece of his essence." I said. "These demonic centaurs aren't a thing in America, they're only Scottish. I've got no experience with even the foggiest idea of how in the hell to treat this."

"You had a piece of essence, right? Something that made you able to get a definitive lock on where he was?"

"Yeah."

T.J. turned to look at Karma, who had been quietly licking her paw for a few minutes. "Any chance you can get something off of Karma?"

"It would be contaminated with her own essence." I answered. "It would be better to go back and acquire a purified sample." The second those words left my mouth, I could see T.J. forming an idea. "You were the one screaming all sorts of terror and fear after we closed the damn thing back in the Base."

"That was fear." He said. "Now that I know, and now that we know water will hinder it, I think we've got a shot at getting close enough to acquire a sample."

"So what do you want to do?"

"We should call Ketch and tell him what we know." He decided. "He may be able to acquire us a water tankard or a fire truck or something with mass amounts of fresh water."

"The thing can't cross water." I added. "What if we can trap it in…" I threw my hands up. "A circle of water?" I could even hear how bad that sounded.

T.J. couldn't, though. "Can you do that?" He asked. "Trap it, entirely encase it in water?"

"I could try." I said. "But I don't know for certain."

"Try." He encouraged. "Trap me in freshwater."

"Trap you?" I asked. He nodded. "Really?"

"What part of that sentence was particularly confusing?"

"The entirety of it." I answered. "You didn't want to be a test dummy."

"Well, now I'll agree to it."

"Let me rephrase," I offered. "I don't want you to be a test dummy."

"Why?" He asked. "You almost threatened me with the option on the way here." When I didn't answer, he shook his head. "You have told me almost everything, proven yourself to be of a determined nature, however in the face of a real possibility of using your power to save this town and do our duty," he threw his hands in the air for a moment before they slammed back down at his sides. "Didn't you take down the Devil with it? Didn't you help fight God's sister? Didn't you do amazing things?" I didn't answer. "Why back down now?"

"Because it was water instead of fire." I finally said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I still barely know you, I'm desperate to reach out for some sort of companionship in a new country, and it was water instead of fire." I stated. "Happy?"

He thought for a while on that. "You're not certain if you can control it properly." He said. "That's why you didn't want to risk picking the locks, and why besides written spells and putting me on a wall you have barely used any sort of magic whatsoever."

"It's been going haywire since I was back in contact with Castiel and Sam and Dean." I said. "Little things, but I couldn't control it. I couldn't stop the disguise from failing me on two separate occasions, I couldn't even tell it had happened. There were other little things, but…" I shrugged. "I don't know. I really don't. And I'm afraid that my lack of knowing and certainty will eventually kill someone."

"You're scared." He finally said.

"I'm cautious." I argued. "And not willing to risk anyone's life but my own."

"Well," he thought for a moment. "What did you do the first time to learn and get your power under control?" I thought for a while on that before answering.

"I pinned a demon to the ceiling." I said, slightly sheepish. "And lit a set of curtains on fire. Not in that order, though."

"Besides that." He said. "I know there was something else."

"Like what?"

"You said that your abilities started having problems after you were put back in contact with Castiel, Sam, and Dean, correct?" He asked. I nodded. "And you were still hiding from them?" Another nod. "And that made you feel alright?"

"Of course not." I said. "I felt awful every minute of it, and just got worse as time went."

"So your emotions tended to be negative instead of being positive?"

"I guess."

"Did you think that maybe your emotions might be tied in to it?" He asked. Once he said that, I remembered lighting the curtains on fire.

 _"You're not letting go." Crowley had stated. "You're not burying it. You prosper better when you embrace your past, and allow it to be a part of you instead of fighting it."_

 _"A good witch can both use their emotions and set them aside."_

 _"Think of something that made you feel warm, comforted, and let it go in to the fire to light the wick."_

Maybe it was time to stop putting them aside, and start allowing them to be a part of me again.

I thought about Mrs. Tran, and the last time I'd seen her. How she didn't deserve what had happened to her. I was scared and nervous when I'd thrown out the water, absolutely terrified and using magic as an instinctual response. "Get me a candle." I requested. "Before we call Ketch with this, I want to make sure it will work."

They had one for us in the lobby. I lit it with ease, and began to think on how I would do it. I kept it lit, and moved it to the middle of the room. "Fire needs air to survive." I stated, working it out as I spoke. "And if I'm going to test it with you for a bigger ball, I'm going to need to make sure you can still breath. So, if they candle stays lit," I focused my attention back to the floating object in question. "Then I've left enough space in it so that the water wouldn't put it out, and also enough air to keep the flame going. Water is one-third oxygen, after all."

I kept my focus on Mrs. Tran in my mind, and how proud she always was of me for how I would incorporate magic and science with my Chemistry homework. She never once told me what I was doing was wrong. She always believed in me.

I held out a hand, and water flowed softly from it, wrapping around to create a ball about a foot wide all around.

"So far, so good." T.J. muttered. "Keep it up. I've got an idea."

"What is it?"

"Make it bigger." He said. "Big enough for me to stick my hand in and pull it out."

"Why?"

"Why not?" He challenged. "You said you could do anything, right? Take a moment to believe in yourself." He dared.

I nodded, widening my fingers as I moved my hand to the side a small amount. The ball widened to about five feet in diameter, slowly yet surely. I opened a two-foot hole, definitely big enough for his hand, but kept the rest of the water sphere intact. He reached in, and pulled out a still lit candle.

"I knew you could do it." He stated, smiling triumphantly at the candle, then me. I closed my fist, and the water evaporated. "We should call Ketch."

The phone rang, and we both already knew who it was. T.J. picked it up, putting the candle back on the table. "Hullo?" He asked. "Yes, a nuckelavee, we came to the same conclusion." A pause. "Actually, sir, we have an idea as to this, if you don't mind my interfering." He put the phone on speaker, and we could hear Ketch's order to go ahead. "The creature can't pass through freshwater, and can only be controlled by the Sea Mither." He said. "We intend on capturing it with Kylie's powers, a ball of water completely surrounding it."

"And as for returning it to the Sea Mither?"

"It had a chain." I said. "Iron. If we can get a sample from that, as well as one from the nuckelavee itself, I think I can get a lock on where it was."

"And how do you propose getting to those when it is such a volatile creature?"

"I'll open a hole in the water." I said. "Just small enough for someone to reach in and get samples."

"And how do you plan on casting two spells at once?" Ketch continued. "I doubt we can acquire a second witch on such short notice to accompany us in this endeavor."

"Bring a fire truck." I said. "Or a shit ton of water or something. If we can put a small river around a bit of land, we can keep it in check while I cast a second spell and, afterwards, possibly a third to return it."

"And how do we know that this Sea Mither will be able to keep it in check if it escaped the first time?" T.J. and I glanced over at each other uncertainly.

"We don't." T.J. admitted.

"Then I propose an alternative." He said. "Capture the beast, certainly, but let's study it. A nuckelavee on land is extremely rare, which was why it took so long to identify it. If we can find another way to capture it, return it with better bindings, and even possibly kill it, I believe that that would be another viable option."

I glanced over at T.J. again. It was better than our plan. Try to return it to the Sea Mither? Hope it doesn't get back out? Ketch had a good, solid idea.

"Alright." I agreed. "Sounds good."

"Excellent. We will meet you at the hotel at 7am, sharp." He instructed.

"I would still like to track down where it originated from, sir." I stated, using my most respectful voice. "In case another one escapes."

"The lore doesn't speak about multiple nuckelavee existing."

"It doesn't say there's only one either." I pointed out. Ketch thought for a moment.

"Smart reasoning. Text me the exact ingredients you'll need, and we'll bring them with us."

The line went dead. I pulled out my phone shortly afterwards, and sent Ketch a short list of what I would need.

"You know," T.J. started to point out. "They'll need a way to contain it permanently, without your constant supervision."

"Yep." I agreed, smiling just a little bit. T.J. handed me the hotel notepad and a pen. I got to writing, working out different containment field possibilities. All of them would need bits of the creature to test, but…

I felt better. I felt more like myself.

I finally felt like I had control again.

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 **Hey, WriKai here! I did my best with the mythology and lore, but I'm not Scottish, so if there are any corrections you would recommend for accuracy feel free to shoot me a message with the info and some links to better sources as well! Hope you all are enjoying it so far!**


	5. New Assignment

**Hey guys, WriKai here! So sorry that it took so long for me to put up the new chapter. Been in a bit of a writers block slump lately, and I didn't want to put anything up until I was certain that it was good and that I had the next few chapters set up as well.**

 **Enjoy!**

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We caught the thing the next day, and with the plans I had sketched out set up a short-term holding facility that would last until we could get a better one set up closer to London, as well as figure out transportation. And that… That was how my life was. Doing missions with T.J., doing research with him, practicing and training with him. He was… He was my partner, like how Sam and Dean were partners or like how me and Kevin had been. He was my best friend, and he made it easier to stay in London.

Training with T.J. was fun. I know I already said that, but I honestly can't express enough just how great it was to have him there. Some days, it felt like I was with Kevin again, and we were just doing what we would do.

Other days I reminded myself that T.J. wasn't Kevin, and that he was his own person. Those were good days too, because those days I didn't look at him expecting an angel to come in at any moment and kill him.

We reviewed information learned together. He had a knack for lore and memorizing information on different creatures and their characteristics (it was funny, I was the one that ran calls and information and lore for other Hunters at one point, but I'd never had that innate sense of memory and knowing the creatures that T.J. had), whereas I had the obvious skills for magic and spellcasting.

"I'm adamant in the belief that you are lying as to your abilities." He said one day. We were practicing hand to hand combat. No weapons, just practicing different fighting techniques against each other, like friendly sparring. I'd pinned him three times already, but he'd gotten me back once. The three had just happened to be subsequent after his one.

"What makes you say that?" I asked with a smile.

"You said that you used to lie and hustle pool for money, correct?" He asked. "Pick pockets as well?"

"Yeah."

"I believe you hustled me in the first round."

"I thought you said you couldn't be hustled?" I chided, going in for a side sweep that I hoped he would dodge.

"I didn't realize you would take those words as a challenge."

"You obviously don't know me well enough, then." I smirked, lowering my guard just a bit so that my sides were exposed. He took the bait, aiming a heel kick the exposed area. I blocked, grabbing his outstretched leg and pulling it sharply to the side. He fell, that perfect little "o" of surprise visible on his face for maybe a moment before his back slammed in to the ground. I kept hold of the leg, putting it in to a lock that exerted pressure on the back of his calf. His back arched a little, showing me that he was in the proper amount of discomfort and pain before his hand rapped sharply twice against the mat. I let go, and offered him a hand up. He took it graciously, smiling.

"You have had an interesting amount of training, haven't you?" He asked. I shrugged.

"Living on the streets isn't doable without pickpocketing skills and a lot of fighting expertise."

"Valid point." He brushed off a bit of dust from his shirt, taking a moment to glance at the time. "Do you want to work on some weapons training or call it an early evening?" I took a glance at the time as well. 6:12, and I had a few things I still wanted to test.

"Let's head out." I said. "I've got a new idea on some invisibility sigils to cloak a small area that I want to test out."

"As much as I would appreciate you indulging within that line of inquiry," both of us straightened up at that voice. It was Ketch. We turned to look, seeing him in the doorway. "I do believe I have an assignment for you, Ms. Dillinger."

"An assignment?" I asked. It was almost time for my six weeks to be up. I had already made my decision, I wanted to stay, but… Assignments weren't supposed to be handed down individually until after you completed four months, minimum, of partner work. "You mean for myself and T.J., right?"

"Sadly, Thomason is not included in this assignment." Ketch stated. I glanced over at him, then T.J. He looked just as shocked as I was.

"But… He's my partner." I said. "He and I are supposed to do all assignments together until the period is over."

"It is over." Ketch said.

"Huh?"

"Have you noticed that you two are the only two trainees?" He asked. "That there are no others except for the two of you."

"I figured you guys didn't recruit frequently." I glanced over at T.J., who was continuing to be silent and contained. Little things here and there from working as a Hunter for them, including a lack of questioning Ketch. He actually looked a bit scared, actually, at me questioning him. "But why so early?"

"Because you two are exceeding typical learning." He answered. "And because you are needed back in America."

"What?!" I thought I was staying here, indefinitely. I thought I was living in Britain, now, and not going back. I turned back again to T.J., looking for some sort of backing and finding none. "Don't tell me you knew about this?" I challenged.

"Thomason was unaware." Ketch said quickly. "The look on his face is because he does not wish to return to just being a Hunter, correct?" Thomason nodded.

"What… What will I be assigned to, sir?" He asked quietly. I turned back to Ketch.

"I want him to come with me." I said quickly. Ketch shook his head.

"I'm afraid his assignment here is equally vital." He said. "We've gotten word of a grimoire in West Sussex, and need Thomason to investigate. His knowing of magic from you in tandem with his training and past Hunting experience make him the perfect man for the job."

I turned back around, looking at T.J. for another moment before turning back to Ketch. "What's my assignment?" I asked, steeling my voice. "What am I doing in America?"

"You're helping Mick with his work."

"Will I have to interact with Sam and Dean and…" I took a breath. "And Castiel?" I didn't mind Crowley and Billie, but they others… I didn't know if I quite could.

"Possibly." Ketch admitted. "You are the one with the most knowledge on not only them, but also Hunting culture in America. You are essential to what Mick needs."

"And what is it he needs exactly?"

"On hand consulting, to start with." He said. I took a deep breath. This was a part of the job. I owed them everything, now. I had to step up and do this.

"When do I leave?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"I guess I should go and pack, then, shouldn't I?"

"Preferably, yes." Ketch agreed. "We'll send a car to pick you up at five. Private plane, as is standard."

"Will I be needing any equipment?"

"Feel free to visit the armory, if you prefer." He said. "But do you believe you will need anything?" I thought on that for a moment.

"No." I said. "I'd rather pick up some ingredients instead."

"Very well." Ketch offered her a short nod as well. "You will be fully briefed on the ride to the airport. I'll be riding with you there."

"Wait." I said, noticing he was prepared to leave. Ketch paused, waiting for me to continue. "I have two requests."

"Which is?"

"I would like to be able to call on Thomason," I turned to look over at him for a second. "For consultations and assistance he may be able to provide from London."

"Thomason, would you be agreeable to that?" Ketch asked him.

"Yes sir." He said, not even taking a moment to pause.

"Very well then. And the second request?"

"Before I do anything to help Mick," I thought for a second, making sure this was what I really wanted before saying it. "I would like to visit Mrs. Tran's grave, alone."

"I'm agreeable to this," Ketch said. "But I would prefer you not be alone, and have some sort of escort or person with you."

"Twenty minutes." I pleaded. "So I can pay my respects. Somebody can be waiting outside the cemetery for me." Ketch thought about that.

"Very well." He agreed. I smiled, relief flooding through me.

"Thank you." He turned to leave, then, all business as usual. "See you tomorrow, then." I said as he walked off. Once I was certain he was out of earshot, I turned to T.J. "Do you know anything?"

"No."

"Did you know about your assignment?"

"No."

"What the hell is this, then?"

"I don't know." He stated. "I'm as shocked as you are."

"Well get pissed then, or something!" I said. "Show some sort of emotion! Ask questions! Don't just leave me the only one doing it!"

"It's not my place."

"But it is." I argued. "You're a Men of Letters now. We're supposed to ask questions, supposed to be inquisitive and search out the answers in every place imaginable. That includes our own people."

"Ketch is… My superior." He said. "It would be unwise for me to do so."

"He's in charge of me too!" I pointed out. "And I still ask questions!"

"You're valuable to them." T.J. rebutted. "You have the freedom to question them."

"You're valuable too!" I argued. T.J. just shook his head, but I kept going. "No, don't try to do that, you are. I wouldn't have been able to do anything without having a person around like you. You have ideas I couldn't even dream of!" It was true. When I'd finished up my ideas on more permanent containment areas for the nuckelavee, T.J. had asked questions and pointed out a few other possibilities that may be easier to maintain. It is the 21st century after all. A way to track it in case of an emergency, alongside the simplest lazy river encircling the creature, was all we actually needed. A few safeguards were good, though, and T.J. even had some ideas on that.

"But I can't do them myself." He reminded me. "And I don't have the innate knowledge of America and it's… chaos, as you do." On that, he was right. He still relied on intel given, and believed it unquestioningly, whereas I did my own research and tended to get a few extra bits of information the Men of Letters missed. "I still need the backup from the Men of Letters, and their intel and advice. You can function independently, in a chaotic landscape, without me."

I hated it when he was right about something I didn't like.

"You better believe that I'm going to call you for consults." I said, jabbing a finger in his chest. He smirked. "And if you find a cute guy that you start dating you better fucking tell me."

"You'll be the first I call." He promised.

"Good." I nodded once, firmly. "I should…" Any gumption I may have had suddenly trailed off. "I should probably go home and pack."

"You want any help?" He offered. I nodded.

"Yeah, sure." I thought for a minute, remembering who was waiting for me back in my apartment. "And while I'm gone, if something comes up and you need Karma to come save your ass," T.J. shook his head before I could finish my sentence.

"No." He said, kindly but firmly. "I'll be assigned a team who probably will not take as kindly to having a guardian hellhound as the pair of us have. Many still believe that the creature should be kept in a cage, and examined for ingredients."

"Bevell needs to get the stick out of her ass." I muttered. T.J. let out a short bark of a laugh. I don't think he expected me to say that. He shouldn't be surprised, though. He knows me by now. He knows how much of a bitch Bevell still is.

"Don't say that too loud!" He hissed, crushing me in a short hug. We both laughed this time, not because of anything particularly funny, but just because… We needed to laugh. We both just needed to laugh together again before I left to go back to America and he went out on his own.

We needed to laugh because we knew the inherent risks of what we both did. We knew that there was always a chance that one of us may not get to see the other again.

"Do me a favor." He requested, letting me go.

"Sure."

"Talk with Castiel." I froze, then, uncertain of what to say, much less what T.J. was getting at. "You miss him. I can see it when you talk about what life was like in America, or when you see other couples in the street." I shook my head, but this time T.J. kept on talking. "Don't argue with me on this. It bothers you that you don't know whether or not he would accept you."

"It doesn't matter." I said. "He's as loyal to the Winchesters as Karma is to me. It wouldn't matter whether or not he accepted me." I shrugged. "It's a lost cause."

"What is it you always told me?" He asked, smirking a little. "Like when I wanted to talk to that blonde bloke last week? You got this." He offered me a short job. "You got this, Kylie. Now come on, it's time for you to pack."


	6. Last Day In London

T.J. followed through, helping me get clothes together. I could just as easily show up back in America, T.J. knew, but the Men of Letters preferred flying and transportation where they could keep an eye on each other. We packed my stuff, fed Karma, and took her back out to the park so she could play fetch with the new leg bone we got at the butcher's (told the guy it was for a university project). I had enchanted it so that it would disappear and reappear with different scents for different monsters in new hiding spots. Karma would bound after it, then bark once when she found her query. Afterwards, she had a few minutes to chew on it and enjoy her reward before it disappeared again.

"You know," T.J. muttered, the pair of us sitting and watching her. I'd given him a pair of sunglasses the week we'd met so that he could see Karma too. "I think you're the first witch that I'm ever going to miss, same with Karma."

"It's a talent." I said, shrugging. The bone disappeared, and Karma sat up, alert and sniffing. She ran off eastward a second later. "Kind of puts things in a weird spot, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"The Men of Letters and their mission." I reminded him. "To rid the world of anything and everything non-human, right?"

"Yeah."

I pointed at myself. "I'm not entirely human. I'm a witch with angel grace inside of her. My dog most certainly isn't human." As I spoke, she barked once, sharply. I was glad I had a sound containment field up. Her bark was as loud as a shotgun blast. "Castiel isn't human, he's an angel. Crowley is a demon. I'm even on good terms with a Reaper." He thought for a moment. "Chuck isn't human, he's God. And Amara is the Darkness. The mission of the Men of Letters is to wipe them all out, isn't it?"

"Not you." T.J. said. "You're still quite human. You haven't killed anyone that was human."

"And Castiel?" I asked. "Crowley? Karma? Billie?"

"They are good." T.J. said. "They are human, too, in their own way."

"So exterminate everyone else except those that we happen to like?" I challenged, offering him a teasing smirk.

He didn't return it, just thought.

"We're saving the world." He finally said. "What's bad about that?"

"Nothing." I answered. "Just posing questions, like normal. Apparently I'm so special that I'm allowed to."

"Stuff it." T.J. muttered, nudging me with his shoulder. Karma bounded back this way, her bone in hand.

"Time to go." I said, looking up. It was starting to get dark. "One last drink at Rory's?"

"I could go for a pint." T.J. agreed.

"Maybe the blonde guy will be there again."

"How's this," T.J. offered. "If I talk to the blonde bloke again, whose name by the way was Jeremy," I repeated the name as if in awe. "Then you will promise to at least consider speaking with Castiel when you return."

"That…" I took a deep breath. "That's a difficult promise to make."

"To even consider it?"

"Yes."

"How about if I get Jeremy's digits?"

"T.J.," I was about to tell him to stop, but he kept going.

"What about a date?"

"If I promise to consider it will you please just drop it?" I asked, frustrated. Karma barked once, quieter, looking from me to T.J.

He nodded. "I'm sorry for bothering you."

"It's alright." I said. "Come on. I need to make a quick call, then we'll go to Rory's."

"What're you doing?"

"Making sure Karma has a spot to hang out at while I'm flying." I said. "Give me five minutes."

T.J. nodded, getting up to try and get the bone from Karma. He preferred throwing it as hard as he could, and seeing whether he threw it hard and far enough for the bone to hit the ground before Karma could catch it in mid-air. Karma liked the game, too. Mostly because she hadn't lost yet.

I took out my phone, and took a moment to look through my contacts. I still had numbers for Sam, Dean, and Castiel. I could always call one of them. I could call now, and get it over with.

I called Crowley instead. I hadn't spoken with him since we'd last met. We'd both kind of quietly agreed that that would be better.

"Do my eyes deceive me," Crowley started off, answering on the third ring. "Or am I getting a phone call from a dead woman?"

"Yep. Totally." I muttered. "Room 66F needs new sheets in Hell. Something about scattered limbs."

"Always have a sense of humor, don't you?" He asked. "What might the occasion for the call be? If it's a demon-related issue give me their name before you kill them, at least. They may be someone I don't like."

"I've got an assignment." I stated. "I'm… I'm coming back. To America."

"What?" This came as a complete shock to him. "I thought you were done with the New World?"

"I don't know what it is, just that I'm flying back tomorrow."

"Do they know you can simply show up here?"

"I think they prefer to keep an eye on me." I watched T.J. throw out of the corner of my eye. It was too easy, and not nearly high enough. Karma caught it without needing a running start. "I just… I wanted to ask a favor." I thought for a moment. "Maybe more."

"Are you calling to make a deal?"

"I'm calling as a friend." I hadn't ever said that before. Crowley stopped with the games, then. He was listening. "I'm going to send Karma ahead. Is she alright at the cabin?"

"Of course." Crowley said. "But that's not the favor, is it?"

"No." I admitted. "I'm visiting Mrs. Tran's grave when I get back. I missed the funeral and I… I didn't get to say good-bye." I fought to keep my voice neutral. "Is there any way you can ask Billie to meet me there?"

"When?"

"I'll call you when I find out." I promised. "I don't know yet. Probably soon."

The line was quiet for a few moments. "Yes. I can do that. Why can't you summon her yourself, though?"

"I don't want to risk her safety." I said. "And someone will be watching me. If I summon her myself, I can't guarantee that there will be pleasant repercussions."

"I see." He said. "Anything else?"

"How are Sam and Dean?"

"Currently, they're enjoying a nice stay somewhere I don't even know, thanks to the American government." He said. "Castiel is, by the way, working to locate both them and you."

"How much does he know?"

"He's more confused than anything else." Crowley said. "He isn't quite certain whether you are alive or dead, much less with how to proceed with that information."

"Is he…" Come on, Kylie! Buck up! It's a simple question! "Is he OK?"

"Physically, yes." Crowley told me. "As for everything else… He's trying to figure it out. He's on his own for the first time. No Sam or Dean. No you. No angels. He's trying to figure it all out on his own and it's not doing him any favors."

"And you?" I asked, watching as T.J. wrestled Karma for the bone. She let him win that one. "Are you alright?"

"I'm managing quite nicely." He said. "It's been pretty quiet with Lucifer gone, Sam and Dean incarcerated somewhere, and Castiel trying to hunt. Complete Christmas for everything evil, like us," I laughed a little bit. "What? The boogeymen Winchesters haven't been seen in weeks, almost a month. Of course everyone who's in the know about the underbelly of society is aware."

"I hope they're OK." I admitted.

"They're always fine, Kylie." Crowley said. "They're like herpes. Just when you think it's gone, it shows up again."

"That's a bit of a gross analogy."

"But accurate." He said. "Don't worry about the Winchesters and their lives. Worry about yours and what you are doing. You left to better yourself, to control your magic and to understand who you were, right?"

"Yeah."

"Have you accomplished that?" I raised my hand for a moment. No unwanted sparks. There hadn't been since the nuckelavee. I watched T.J. throw again. This time it had distance, but Karma was still about to catch it. I stopped it just above her mouth, leaving her confused for only a moment as she stared at the floating bone and started to bark.

"Yeah." I said.

"I trust that's Karma I hear howling?" Crowley asked. I dropped the bone to her.

"Yep."

"Good. I'll make sure there's food for her at the cabin."

"Thank you."

"Enjoy your flight." He hung up before I could say anything else. I smiled for a moment before pocketing my phone. I used to think he did that because he was a rude asshole. He's still a rude asshole, but I figured out why he liked to hang up first.

I think he just hates saying goodbye. Even when I'd met with him to say the words, neither of us actually said them. Crowley just asked if that was my intent.

A demon that hates goodbyes, and a witch that doesn't hate a demon.

It really did put things in perspective.


	7. Plane Briefing

They were taking me to her grave first. Even though Kevin was still technically missing (presumed dead), she was buried back where they used to live in Neighbor, Michigan, maybe three hours from where I'd grown up. I let Crowley know the second before we took off with a short text. He didn't reply, but I trusted him. He tended to keep his end of a bargain.

Once we were in the air, Ketch got down to business on briefing. "As you have been aware, Mick Davies has been in America while you trained in London. His work has been to recruit American Hunters to work with us and collaborate."

"How's that been going?" I asked, offering a small smirk. Ketch pursed his lips for a moment, displeased at his own answer.

"Not well." He answered. "We have had yet to make any inroads with Hunters, which is unfortunate and partially due to the bad first introduction that was made with Sam and Dean."

"What happened to them?"

"Lady Bevell." Enough was said then. She really was a bit of a bitch, wasn't she? How in the hell did she have a kid?!

"Great." I muttered. "Hunters get word, get antsy about working with you."

"Exactly."

"So what am I supposed to be doing, exactly?"

"Helping make better inroads." He answered. "Giving us intel on how to better communicate with these people."

"You realize what you're asking is the equivalent of trying to get a thousand or so pissy wasps to organize under one flag, right?"

"I believe it is simpler than that." Ketch stated.

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "How many have you gotten work with you so far?" When Ketch didn't answer, I did my best to avoid giving him an "I thought so" look. "They're solo people. They don't even like working cases with each other. Tell them where one is, and if they know you they'll go for it."

"Like you did?" Ketch asked. "As well as Robert Singer and…" He paused for a moment, checking a file in his hand. "Garth Fitzgerald the Fourth, I believe. The three of you ran calls and sent Hunters out on assignment, as well as sent information when it was asked of you."

"I'll be honest, I haven't met this Garth guy," I said. "But I've heard of Bobby, and yeah, he did that. If he called you, he had a case for you. If you called him, you got information in a day or so, or you got the fake government."

"As well as for you." Ketch said, holding up his phone. He looked through recordings for a moment before pulling up one.

 _"This is Commander Johnson."_ My voice, commanding and determined. It was the alias I used when I was living with Cas, for fake FBI.

 _"This…_ _ **This**_ _is Commander Johnson?"_ A male voice asked.

 _"Yes, and might I ask who this is?"_ Rough, a little pushy, won't take nonsense. It was the same voice I'd used with my brothers sometimes.

 _"This… This is Sheriff Ornell out in Canyon City."_ He said. _"We've got two agents here, Townshend and Entwhistle…"_ His voice trailed off. He was uncomfortable.

 _"What about them?"_

 _"I… I'm sorry ma'am, but could I speak to your supervisor?"_

 _"Excuse me?"_

 _"You sound a little young and… albeit dainty to be the ma-…"_ A short pause. _"_ _ **Person**_ _in charge."_

 _"Are you saying that you don't believe that a woman can work this hard to acquire the position of Commander?"_ I challenged him. _"Sir, are you even_ _ **aware**_ _of what kind of training and testing I have gone through to get to this position?"_

 _"I can imagine, but,"_ he tried to get a word in, but I stopped him.

 _"No, I don't think you can if you aren't willing to take instruction from a woman in charge."_ I argued. _"Maybe I should get in contact with_ _ **your**_ _supervisor, sir, and tell them that you've decided to take a sexist stance against authority figures within_ _ **your very government**_ _._ _ **Do you know what that would mean?!"**_

 _"I… I…"_ I remembered this conversation, now. I'd enjoyed it a lot. Castiel had looked up, surprised and amused, the second I started this rant.

 _"_ _ **That would mean immediate expulsion of your current position, Sheriff!**_ _"_ I threatened. It had been complete and utter bullshit, but the guy believed me. _"And you know what, I think afterwards I'll make sure a_ _ **woman**_ _is instated in your place. How's that sound?"_

 _"Please don't, ma'am."_

 _"Are you willing to accept my authority_ _ **now**_ _?"_

 _"Yes, ma'am."_

 _"_ _ **Good!**_ _"_ I'd had to put him on hold for just a second, just so I could fight back laughter. _"Townshend and Entwhistle are two of my finest agents. I expect you'll help them with anything they need, right?"_

 _"Yes, ma'am."_

There was a click, then, and the recording was over. "You did well with that. Your voice can be very demanding when you want it to be."

"I had brothers." That was all I answered with. They had information on my backstory. They didn't need a recap.

"We're hoping that Hunters will trust a familiar face alongside Mick." Ketch continued. "Or at least a familiar voice."

"They all think I'm dead." I said. "And I didn't meet many of them. I just got the information passed along from other Hunters. And that was only because they trusted Sam and Dean first. They didn't ever meet me."

"But they'll remember your voice."

"They'll remember I'm dead."

"Then what would you suggest?" Ketch offered. "Because you seem to be extremely negative about this subject and the possibilities of our success."

I thought, reaching in to my back for a notebook. "You need a Hunter they'll know." I said. "You need them to know someone, to trust them, then you've got a shot. All you need is one, one good Hunter, and you're set."

"And who would you suggest?"

"Sam and Dean would be prime candidates." I said. "They're well known. Stories get around well."

"Who else?"

"Mary." I didn't even pause before saying her name. "The Winchester name is well known in general for American Hunters. Mary's come back from the dead. She doesn't have all of the connections, though I bet by now she has some." I thought for a minute more. "I… I can't think of anyone else."

"Really?" Ketch asked. "Because I can."

"Who do you have intel on?"

"You."

"What?!" I exclaimed. "What the hell?!"

"You're well known among Hunters in America as well." He said. "Adopted family of Sam and Dean Winchester. Fought off demons without any formal training for years on your own. Came back from the dead, now twice." I didn't like this. I didn't like any of this. "You ran the Hunter's phone network, the closest any of you had at the time to a formal system like the Men of Letters. You were the protector of the prophet, about to marry an angel," he took a small sip from a bottle of water. "Add to it the fact that you helped defeat Amara and Lucifer, and that you have a hellhound for a pet," he took one more sip before setting it down. "You'll be more well known than either of the Winchesters."

"You're forgetting one small detail." I reminded him, twitching my finger. His water bottle floated in front of him, doing slow rotations between us. "Hunters don't trust anything non-human."

"We actually have information as to twins that are Hunters," Ketch corrected me. "And the sister happens to also be a witch."

"What?"

"Their specialty is witches who have crossed the line." He finished. "Their talents are known, and yet for some reason they're still alive. Thoughts?"

"I… I've never met them." Was all I said. "Never even heard of them."

"They do most of their work in Canada, but it's still a part of North America, and still a part of the chaotic system." He answered. "And tend to keep mostly to themselves."

"You seem adamant on putting me in." I said. "What's your plan?"

"To do exactly that." He explained. "Put you back in as an American Hunter, and let you do your work. Extol your story to who will listen. Become endorsed by other Hunters. And once you believe they're ready, send them to Mick."

"I still think you should get the Winchesters, too." I said. "They've got the most expertise and knowledge, and access to the Bunker."

"So do we."

"They won't give it up without a fight." I reminded him. "And the data in there is different, I know it is. I've gone through it all. I started making electronic copies myself, as well as catalogued where every book is."

"Alright. Valid reasoning." He said. "I also want you to work with other witches."

"Why?"

"Call it study abroad." He answered. "There are other witches with more knowledge, or different knowledge, than you have. It could prove very valuable later on. We want copies of their grimoires, too. Preferable the physical book as well if you can, but if you can only acquire electronic copies that is acceptable."

"I can see the sense in that." I agreed. "The problem is that that will make Hunters trust me less."

"I'm certain you're used to disguising yourself in to multiple identities." Ketch pointed out. "As well as able to make people forget they saw you, if need be."

"Will I…" I thought for a minute. "Will I have to be in contact with Sam or Dean or Castiel?"

"If need be, that exists as a distinct possibility."

"They'll kill me." I said the words flat-out. "Sam and Dean will hate me if they find out the truth. They already do a little bit from what they know."

"And Castiel?"

"He's loyal to the Winchesters." I said.

"But would he kill you?" I didn't answer that one. I wasn't certain which answer was correct, much less which one I wanted to be right. If he would, then he hated me, and he would never forgive me. If he wouldn't….

I couldn't think on that. I couldn't. It was more important that I focused on what was known versus unknown.

"I see." Ketch finally said. "Then only if absolutely needed will you be put in direct contact with them."

"Thank you." I muttered. "Besides, I have other contacts that I can easily sub out for them, ones that can keep better tabs than I could."

"And who would these people be?" He asked. I shook my head a little.

"I promise, this isn't a question you want answered." Was all I said. I knew he wouldn't be happy about my contacts being a demon and a reaper.

"Alright." He conceded. "So do we have a plan?"

"Yeah." I nodded a little with it. "Yeah, I can do this."

"Excellent!" He reached for his water bottle, and I relinquished my hold on it. I'd almost forgotten I'd even been keeping it floating in the first place. "We'll land in eight or so hours. Why don't you rest?"

"Sounds good." I said. The faster the eight hours went by, the better.


	8. Saying Good-Bye

I hadn't been back to Michigan in a long time. It was strange. The last time I was here was when I'd died and been brought back. I didn't want to return to Cheboygan, though. It wasn't home. It hadn't been for a very long time.

True to Ketch's word, he stood outside the cemetery entrance for me. Billie was there, I could feel her presence. I walked inside the cemetery for a while, until I knew I was outside of his sight and, thankfully, in front of Mrs. Tran's headstone. I had twenty minutes.

"Billie?" I asked, looking around. She appeared in front of me a second later, hands on her hips.

"Been a long time since I seen you around." She commented, looking me up and down for a moment. "Love the new look by the way. Much better than the wanna-be goth attempts." It was true. My style had changed as well. A part of moving to London included getting a new wardrobe. Two pantsuits were a requirement so that I could go to meetings looking professional. Other than that, I was free to get whatever I wanted. A few T-Shirts, jeans, a jacket or two (including a leather one), and some sweaters. Normal clothes, you know? Decent looking normal clothes, for once.

"Thanks." I smiled. "How're you?"

"I'm well." She smiled a little. "Yourself?"

"I'm doing good." I said, offering her a short nod. "Been getting better at magic every day."

"I can tell." She said. "Hellhound for a pet tends to mean you've got a fair amount of power in you." She smiled at me. "Come on. Show me what you got!"

I didn't raise my hand this time. I didn't need to. I just did it for effect when I did. In between us, leaves and dirt and twigs swirled upwards until they formed people, replicas of the pair of us.

"Impressive." Billie commented. The earth-copy of Billie turned to look at her.

"Thank you." Her voice sounded just like Billie's as well. I smirked, watching as Billie looked over her duplicate. "What, you want me to pose too?" The copy asked, mimicking her sarcastic tones perfectly.

"Screw that." The duplicate me muttered, dissipating back in nothing.

"I guess that's my cue then." Duplicate Billie muttered, following suit. When they were both gone, I raised an eyebrow at the real Billie.

"Nice." She muttered.

"I try." I said, offering a small shrug. "But I… I have a question to ask."

"I'm guessing you're asking about Linda Tran?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "I just was wondering who reaped her."

"That would be me." She answered. "I figured you'd prefer me to take care of it personally."

"Thank you." I smiled, and Billie thought for a minute.

"Hell, she's gonna badger the hell out of everyone else if I don't do this." Billie muttered. "Here, help me out." She said.

"With what?"

"Opening a door to a personal heaven." She stated. I felt shocked. "Don't give me that look? I know you've thought about it."

"Well, yeah…" I rubbed my hand behind my neck. "Only in case of emergencies, though."

"Sure." Billie said sarcastically. "Come on. Let's see what you've come up with."

"Alright." I thought for a moment. "I need something of hers."

"No you don't." She replied. "You're stronger than that. I taught you better than that." She was right, she actually had taught me to be able to do this stuff without needing personal items. "You've been focusing on witch magic for too long. You know more than just that."

I took a deep breath, remembering when I'd summoned her and proofed the house. I hadn't known exactly what I was doing, it just… It felt natural. I knew what I wanted, knew it was important, and just did it.

If I could do it then, I could do it now.

"Peto, loqui cum mortuis." I muttered. "Volo loqui cum amatur, et quod perierat. Volo tecum loqui, Linda Tran."

I could feel the wind swirling around me as a simple pair of circles came to mind, etched in the dirt, with more intertwined within it. Each part of the ring though wasn't just a line. It was words, in extremely small Latin. I wish to speak with the dead. I wish to speak with the loved and the lost. I wish to speak with Linda Tran.

I opened my eyes, seeing the circles light up as they shifted from their tangled mess in the dirt to find their place in the one large circles. There was one around me, and another three feet in front of me.

Mrs. Tran appeared within it a minute later, mid-sentece. "Kevin! Kevin I swear to God if you do that again I…" She stopped, blinking. "I… Kylie?"

"Hi." I said, waving. "

"Oh my God." She moved towards me, about to hug me, but I held up a hand.

"Stop." I said, pointing at her feet. The closer she got to the boundaries of her circle, the brighter it got. "You can't pass through, and I can't go in."

Mrs. Tran looked down, finally seeing the circle around her. "How are you here?" She asked.

"What do you see?"

"I see my house." She answered. "The house Kevin and I lived in, with you standing in the middle of it and a random circle appearing under me."

"I don't see that." I answered.

"Well, what do you see?"

"I…" I took a deep breath. "I see a cemetery. The one you're buried in."

"Oh, honey." She murmured. "I'm guessing the other person in the room is the Reaper that came and got me, then? Billie?"

"I can see both." She explained, moving so that I could see her as well. "I can help you keep this up, Kylie, but not for long. Say whatever it is you need to say fast."

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Tran asked.

"I… I just wanted to say good-bye." I stated. "I didn't get a chance to see you when everything was happening and I missed my chance to tell you good-bye and thank you." The words came out hurried, and it took all my effort to keep some sort of composure. "And I miss you. I miss coming back to your house after classes and doing homework and talking with you on the phone if I have normal people questions and I just feel as though I failed you. I failed you and your son and I don't know what to do exactly."

"Don't say that!" Her voice, sharp and insistent, cut through any grieving I had. "Young lady, you are doing just fine without me there! Look at yourself!" She motioned to me. "No more gothic clothes, thank God." Billie let out a small snort of laughter. "You're standing taller. You're not wearing that weird disguise anymore. You're a person again, one that's more confident in herself. You're doing just fine without me. And as for that thought of failing us…" She looked around at the circle around her. "Can Kevin walk in to this circle?"

I looked over at Billie. She glanced at what I'd done, then nodded. "But if Linda walks out, your connection time is over."

That was enough for Mrs. Tran. "KEVIN!" She shouted. "GET IN THIS MAGIC FACETIME CIRCLE THING!" A pause. Kevin was saying something to her on her end. "JUST COME DOWN HERE!"

A few seconds later, Kevin stood, his back to me as he faced his mother, in the middle of his sentence. "Does this supposed 'magic circle' thing do?"

"Turn around." I said. Kevin's whole body froze for a moment.

"Mom, I need you to tell me right now if my best friend is dead and behind me or not." Kevin stated, his voice very calm.

"Nah. Not dead, just having a lot of people assume that." I answered. "Don't step out of that magic circle by the way."

Kevin turned around, absolute excitement on his face. "KYLIE!" He shouted, running towards me and…

Out of the circle.

He backed up in to it slowly. "Don't leave the magic circle." He said. "Right."

"Yep." I smirked.

"Kevin," Mrs. Tran said, putting a hand on his shoulder so he stood beside her. "Has Kylie here ever failed you?"

"What?" He looked from his mother to me. "No. Never. Why would you ask that?"

"And would you say that she's perfectly capable of being a self-sufficient woman without us."

"She created a magic facetime." Kevin answered. "Hell yeah." His mom nodded, looking pointedly at me.

"See?" She asked. "What did I tell you?"

"I miss you guys." I said. I wasn't certain what else to say except that. "I just miss you guys so much."

"Yeah, well, you're still alive." Mrs. Tran reminded me. "So you quit spending so much time worrying about the dead, and focus on your life now."

"Besides, think about it." Kevin added. "What good are you doing moping about us? We're fine here."

"How…" I stared at the pair of them. "How are you two even in the same Heaven?"

"Linda here kept shouting at the angels and arguing with them until they conceded to visiting rights." Billie explained.

"I did not shout at them." Mrs. Tran stated. "I simply debated my point of view until they came to understand my reasoning."

"She scared the shit outta one of them." Kevin admitted. Mrs. Tran smacked his arm. "What?! You did! I think you made her cry, too!"

"If she can't take my requests, she shouldn't be working with the dead." Mrs. Tran answered. "But yeah, I spoke with the angels and I'm allowed to visit with my son three times a week."

"Wow." I muttered. "That's… Impressive."

"She didn't give them much of a choice." Kevin muttered.

"I hate to break up the reunion," Billie interrupted. "But time is wasting, and you and me," she looked at me pointedly. "We gotta talk."

"Go." Mrs. Tran encouraged. "Spend your time among the living. Don't worry so much about the dead."

"However, when you do kick it," Kevin added. "First off, you better go out some badass way when you're 500 years old or something." I laughed. "Secondly, don't worry, mom will bitch for visiting rights to you as well."

"Kevin!" Mrs. Tran shouted. "Language!"

"It's Heaven." He answered. "What are you going to do? Kill me?"

"Bye, Kylie." Mrs. Tran said, looking from her son to me. "And good luck. I know that you can do whatever it is you've got to do."

"Bye Kylie!" Kevin shouted. "Kick ass!"

Mrs. Tran and I stepped out of the circles at the same time. The second our feet hit the ground outside of them, they disappeared in to the earth as though they had never existed. I looked up at Billie. "I'm not going to see them again until I die, am I?"

"It's better that way." She said. "Let the dead stay dead, and not interfere with the living."

"What about me?" I asked. "I was dead."

"Believe me, when you die I'll be happy too." She said. "Just because what's dead should stay dead. But for now," she shrugged. "You're following that rule. You aren't bringing anybody or anything back. You acknowledge your own existence going against the natural law. You get it." She nodded a little. "I'll reap you when it's your time, and I'll help make sure you stay dead too."

"Thanks." I actually felt grateful for the sentiment. I didn't want to come back again. I didn't want to live forever. As a witch, my lifespan was now increased to be much longer, but I could still die. It would just be difficult.

I was alright with that. It felt right to me.

"You've got five minutes left, so I need you to listen." She said. "Dean and Sam are getting out. One of them is supposed to die tonight."

"What?" I asked. It was such a sudden shift, such a bombshell, I needed a second to comprehend.

"We made a cosmic pact." Billie held up her palm, and I saw it had been cut, and quite recently. "Something big is coming, and I can feel it."

"You've got to explain better than that." I asked.

"They're going to try and get out of it." Billie finished.

"And you want me to what? Make sure they don't?"

"No." She answered. "I want you to be prepared. If a cosmic pact is broken, there are consequences. Big ones. Bigger than anything you've seen."

"You want me to let it break?" I asked.

"I want to make sure you're prepared for any and all consequences from it." She answered. "But I don't want you to interfere."

"Why?"

"Something's coming." She repeated. "I can feel it. Someone needs to be ready. Besides, it's not your place to interfere in this."

"Why tell me and then say it's not my place?"

"Because you need to be aware." She looked around. "Your handler is coming. I need to go. Watch. Learn. Be prepared."

"What?" I asked. Billie was gone in a second, though. "What the hell?!"

"Kylie!" Ketch's voice rang out like a siren. "Kylie!"

I stood still, face bowed towards Mrs. Tran's headstone as if I had been doing that the whole time. "Kylie, good." He said. "We need to leave, now. The assignment has changed a bit."

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you on the way." He answered. "We need to leave, now."

"What about Mick?"

"We'll meet him in Colorado."

"What's in Colorado?"

"I'll explain on the plane." He said. "Come on. Let's go." He rushed off after that, back towards the car. I took one last look behind me, back at Mrs. Tran's headstone.

I could've sworn I saw Billie one last time before I followed Ketch.


	9. Mary Winchester

My assignment after witnessing them break the cosmic pact didn't change. Get in good with Hunters. Learn from witches. Prepare for whatever was coming.

The first part of it was sitting in on Mick talking with Mary. Ketch had told him my idea, and Mick had agreed. Between the three Winchesters, Mary was the best candidate. Ketch had other business to attend to anyways.

So I sat a few booths away, Karma sitting quietly beside me as I listened to Mick make his opening pitch. "Let me paint you a picture, of a world without monsters, or demons, or any of those little buggers that go bump in the night. Of a world where no one has to die because of the supernatural. Of a new world, a better world." It was one he'd said before, I could tell. It sounded rehearsed and practiced, almost as though it was designed for a business meeting instead of Hunters.

It was good, but it was like promising a skeptic that God was real. They would want about five tons of proof before they even considered the possibility of considering the offer. I was actually surprised when Mary offered to listen.

Then again, she was from a different time, a time with less organization and options; a time where monsters had killed her and her parents. I could see how she'd be more willing to listen.

Ketch, on the other hand, was a little surprised. I realized that he hadn't expected to get that far. "As you've seen, we have the technology to track two Hunters, your sons, and help you find them. We can easily make sure that they're not looked for now that they're safe as well, for starters."

"You're talking about my sons." She said. "Not about your picture. Tell me how you plan to get rid of vampires and demons and werewolves and all the other supernatural creatures."

"A marriage of technology and magic." He answered. "For example, we have weapons that can irradiate the blood of a vampire and force a demon out of its host without the need of an exorcism. If you include the symbols and spellwork we have all across London," work that I had helped update. "Then we currently have a completely creature-free city."

"I'd like to see some of these symbols and weapons that you're talking about." She said. I walked over to the booth, sliding an iron dagger off of her person as I did.

"I believe that's my cue." I said, sliding in to the booth next to Mick. Karma followed suit, finding herself a comfortable spot to sit near us. Mick wasn't quite certain as to what I was doing intervening, but Mary… Mary looked as though I had just come back from the dead. In all fairness, I probably had for her. "Hi. I believe you know who I am."

"You're… You're her." She said. "You're the angel's fiancée. You're supposedly dead. Or at least, he isn't certain now."

"I figured." I muttered. "Look, I can show you whatever you want to see, and I can vouch that the Men of Letters are legit." I grabbed a napkin off the table, hiding her blade in my jacket still. I waved a hand over the napkin, and watched as it folded and tore itself in to a simple symbol, a basic one for vampires. Wouldn't give you a location or number, but it let you know one was within 50 feet of said symbol. "If a vamp gets close to you, this will send a pulse back to its matching symbol or to the person it's bound to, caster's choice." I pulled her knife out next, watching her surprised expression for a moment.

"That was in my pocket." She commented.

"Magic." I muttered, wiggling my fingers with a small smile. "Iron is good, yeah, but if you want something to hurt, you do this." I paused for a moment, glancing around. "You know, this is a knife, I should probably make sure people don't see us." I snapped my fingers, creating the same bubble I normally had around when it was me, T.J., and Karma (she was sitting outside, waiting patiently. I'd summoned her after watching Castiel… you know).

"What did you just do?" Mary asked.

"We're pretty much invisible right now." I answered. "Which is good because most people tend to have a negative reaction to a knife on the table. Now here's my question," I grasped the hilt, keeping the blade on the table. "What monster do you want to kill with this?"

"Vampires." She said, no hesitation. "You made a symbol like that, you can do more against them, can't you?"

"Oh yeah." I agreed. "Easy." I focused on the blade itself. Iron, yes, but easy to enchant. I closed my eyes, imagining the symbols I wanted on it as I worked. Lighting the insides on fire would be the easiest one. I remembered the symbols from T.J.'s blade. I could see it in my mind, see the different designs become etched in to the hilt and blade.

I could hear Mary's breath hitch slightly as I worked. Once I was done, I opened my eyes, proud of what I'd done.

"The hilt will now pulse a little if a vampire comes within fifty feet of you." I explained, offering her the hilt. She took it warily. "And if you use it to stab a vampire, it'll burn them from the inside out. Not nearly as good as the weapons we have that irradiate their blood," I commented. She inspected the blade, looking closely at the markings on it. "But it'll work in close quarters, or if you want to throw it and know you won't miss. You'll need to embed the blade, though. A scratch will hurt like hell, but it won't kill."

"Wow." She muttered, looking over at me. "You… You're serious. And you're alive." She said. She looked over at Mick for a moment. "I want to speak with her alone." She requested, motioning to me.

"I'll go outside and make a few calls." He said slowly, looking from me to her. I nodded as reassuringly as I could to him. I let down the bubble, moving so Mick could leave the booth as Mary quickly slid her newly upgraded blade away. Once Mick was out the door, Mary took a deep breath.

"You're alive." She said. "Putting aside all the magic and Men of Letters and crap, you're alive." She shook her head. "You're actually alive."

"Yeah." I muttered.

"Castiel is looking for you."

"He is?"

"Yes!" She almost shouted the word. "He's been torn looking for you and my boys and Kelly and," I cut her off after Kelly.

"Wait. You mean Kelly, antichrist mom Kelly?"

"Yes." She said.

"Shit." I muttered. "What happened?"

"Why are you worrying about Kelly?" Mary asked. "There are people looking for you. Good people that care about you and miss you."

"And there are things you don't know." I said. "About me. About what's happened."

"Then tell me." She stated. It wasn't a demand for her, just a way of moving from point A to B.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because in all honesty, you'll either like your sons less or you'll hate me." I answered. "Probably both. Either way, it's not a fun story, nor is it short."

"I've got time." She said.

"That's not what I'm here to talk with you about." I argued.

"No, but I'd still like to know." She pointed out. "And if I would be working with you, I would like to know a bit about you."

"There's no guarantee we'll be working together."

"I think we will be." She said. "I don't know them. I'm not certain about trusting them."

"You don't know me." I reminded her.

"No, but my boys did." She said. "And they trusted you a lot. If they trust you, I trust you."

"I'm a witch." She only raised an eyebrow at the statement.

"A boy I saved a long time ago died recently." She said. "And I learned that he had two kids, one of which is a witch herself, and she's an alright person." Huh. Must've been the twins Ketch was talking about. "I'm willing to work with you, Kylie. I'm probably even willing to work with them." She threw her thumb back at the door, where Mick was outside on the phone. "But I want to have some questions answered. I want to know why you chose them, and who you are as a person."

"Why?" It was strange. This wasn't something I was used to, someone wanting to get to know me specifically, based on what they'd heard about me. She wasn't just looking me up on the internet or asking a bunch of questions about me to other people. She wanted me to tell her what I wanted to tell her.

"You're here for a reason." She answered. "And let people believe you were dead for a reason."

I sat back, thinking for a minute. "Alright." I agreed. "If I do this, are you in?"

"Yes."

"Then what do you want to know?"

Mick stayed outside until we both walked out, maybe two hours later. In those two hours Mary and I talked about, well… everything. I asked her questions about her life. She asked me plenty of questions. We both just kind of… talked.

She accepted me being a witch. She didn't look abhorred by the decision, didn't say it was a bad one. When I asked her why, her answer cut me deep. "Because I made a hard decision too, a long time ago, that hurt a lot of people later on."

"What happened?"

"I made a deal with Azazel." That was all she sounded willing to say about it. I didn't question further. I knew the story. The Men of Letters had the whole book series in their records, published and unpublished.

But we talked. She handed me a pair of sunglasses she had and I waved my hand over them, making her able to see Karma. She took them off almost immediately after seeing my dog. "That was sitting next to you in the diner?" She asked. "That was the dog you were talking about?"

"Yep."

"I… I don't know about that." She stated. "I'm not certain how I feel about that."

"Most people aren't." I assured her. "Want to see her do tricks?"

"Maybe later." She stuffed the sunglasses in her pocket. "How do I… Distinguish your hellhound from others?"

"She'll probably be a little smaller," I admitted. "But she'll be attacking other hellhounds, if that situation comes up, so no worries on that."

"Alright, then." She muttered. "And these guys, the Men of Letters… They let you keep a hellhound around?"

"They're not thrilled either." I said. "But I donate ingredients from her that are hard to get otherwise, and she doesn't kill any of them or go inside, so the people who do know tend to have less of a problem."

"Not everyone in the Men of Letters knows you have a hellhound for a pet?"

"Of course not." I let out a short laugh. "They'd kill her if they knew!"

"Alright then." She thought for a second. "So they're not as strict and rigourous as they claim?"

"No, they're actually pretty on the ball about that." I corrected. "I just… I'm kind of determined in a few aspects, and different in enough others that they're willing to acquiesce to one or two things that would be otherwise frowned upon."

"What other things?"

"I do a lot of work improving their security." I explained. "The setup they have is brilliant, though. If a vampire, werewolf, demon, wendigo, rugaru, anything specifically non-human walks around the city, a different symbol is activated and, in turn, lights up a dot on a map of the city back in London. Those will tell you where one has been. With my upgrades, it locks on to the signature of who passes through, and keeps them lit up as a small dot for the next few hours."

"Wow." She muttered.

"They've got to be replaced every so often so that they don't wear down," I admitted. "Design flaw. I'm working on a more long-term solution that wouldn't directly tie itself to me and feed off of me, but… yeah." I shrugged.

"How do you and… and Karma," she glanced over at where she had last seen said dog. "Walk around without setting off alarms?" In response, I lifted up a small necklace I wore, with a Chinese caricature on the front. It looked like a dime store trinket, mostly because it originally had been, but it was inconspicuous and easy to work with.

"This is the key to the magic doors." I joked. "I needed a way to make sure we could walk around without setting off anything. In this case, if I'm wearing the right symbols with the right words said and the right ingredients used," I flipped it over, revealing the engravings I'd done myself on the backside. There were a few directly embedded in the Chinese word as well, but those were harder to see and not really worth showing. "Like this here, I become invisible to the wardings." I reached down to pet Karma for a second. "She has a collar with the same designs, but you can't really see it on her."

"And the Men of Letters, they enabled you to do all of this?"

"Yeah, they did." I nodded. "I wasn't really able to do anything here in America, wasn't really ever able to implement any of these. I've had the ideas for a while, I used to doodle them on my college work." I laughed a little at that.

"You went to college?"

"For a little while."

"What made you leave?"

"This." I motioned around me. "The life. Hunting. Keeping people safe. Lucifer. I just… I couldn't stay and pretend I was normal anymore when I was doodling complex marriages of math and science together like this," I rubbed the charm for a minute before hiding it back under my shirt. "Without even thinking about it. I'm not normal. Not anymore. I know that. And now, I'm alright with it. I feel like I'm finally doing some good with what I have, you know?"

"You feel as though you're doing good with what you thought was bad." She said slowly.

"Yeah." I nodded. "Finally. I've heard so many times that what I chose was wrong, you know? And heard so many people threaten me and promise to kill me because they thought me being a witch was wrong and… and like I betrayed them."

"I still can't believe that my boys would do that." She said. "They're good people. And Castiel," I shook my head before she could finish.

"Castiel is loyal to them." I said. "It doesn't matter what he may or may not say. His loyalties would be torn and eventually…" I shook my head. "He'd chose them, no matter what. In the end, he'll always chose them."

"He misses you." She said. "More than you can imagine."

"If he knew everything, now," I shook my head. "He wouldn't. He'd hate me."

"You don't know that."

"Wouldn't you?"

"If Castiel made the same choices you did," she asked in response. "Would you hate him?" I thought on it.

"No." I knew that for certain. "I love him. I'd be pissed, incredibly pissed, but if I'd thought he was dead and all of the sudden he was there again," I pursed my lips for a moment. "I wouldn't believe it. I'd think I was dead and that he was there in my own Heaven."

"Don't you think that he would feel the same?" She asked. Before I could answer, though, Mick walked back in.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I just received a call about Miss Kylie having an assignment." He said. "Have the two of you reached a decision?"

I looked over at Mary, and after a moment she nodded. "Yes. I believe we have." She said. "What can I do?"

"Excellent!" Mick clapped his hands together, and threw a twenty on the table. "In which case, I believe that you and I have talking to do. Kylie," Mick nodded at me. "Ketch will meet you at the hotel with instructions." I stood up next to Mick, and Mary took a second to write something down on a napkin before standing as well.

"Call me." She requested. "If you ever want to talk. Besides, I feel as though I may end up needing some backup in this." She handed me the napkin, and I smiled.

"I can do that." I agreed. A second later I was gone, and maybe a mile or so away from where the hotel was. Karma was by my side, standing and wagging her tail. "Come on, Karma." I said, smiling an actual, real smile. I was out in the street, in public, and for the first time I felt comfortable and even confident being in America as I was – a witch. I didn't feel the need to disguise myself. Not anymore. I reached down and scratched that spot she liked behind her ear. "Let's get to work."


	10. Getting To Work

My first assignment was with witches. It was decided that I was to receive more training first, and learn as much as possible, whereas Mary would help recruit other Hunters after she got used to the operation.

Ketch gave me a few options of ones they knew, but I was to find out what they didn't know. Who was powerful, who was around, who had more mojo than the others.

"Rowena, for example, would be a prime candidate." He offered. I shook my head immediately.

"I've already copied what she had and learned from her." I said. I didn't mention the Book of the Damned. That was one secret they didn't quite have out of me just yet. I was saving that for an emergency.

"Alright." He said. "I assume you have ideas as to who to find?"

"I've got a few spells in mind." I answered. "They can latch on to large and old powers, and direct me to them." I'd upgraded the "Google Maps" spell from tracking Lucifer. It should work much better for finding other witches.

"Very well." He said. "I'll leave you to it then."

And I was left to my own devices. Ketch trusted how I operated. As long as I checked in with him once every week or two with general updates and called if I got a big lead, I was good.

So I got to work. I went back to the cabin, first, and saw it was now mostly abandoned. Nobody had been in there since Karma, as I could see from the leftover chunks of meat in the fridge. The curtains had been replaced again. That was new.

I gave Crowley a short call to let him know I was staying there. He didn't answer. I doubted he would mind, though. He'd told me I could use it already. Ketch had offered getting me, you know, an actual room or apartment somewhere.

I didn't need that. It would give me away, anyways. Besides, there was something I missed more than a little bit.

I hadn't taken my bike with me after we'd first brought it to the cabin. I'd left it here and just showed up places. I kinda missed having a ride.

It was still there, behind the cabin and under a tarp. I smiled when I saw it. Didn't even need gas yet. I'd refilled her before we'd gotten here. Condition was good. I hadn't enchanted it to stay that way, I'd left it as is. Proof that I didn't need magic necessarily, you know?

"Karma, I think we're set." I muttered, smiling. She barked happily beside me. "Alright, I'm gonna start working on a spell, make a few calls maybe," I told the dog. "You need a new toy to play with." I thought for a moment. I could get her a new stick set up, yeah. But that was easy.

I needed to stretch my powers.

I ducked back inside for a moment, picking up the ingredients I would need. As many different scents as possible. Werewolf fur, vampire blood, wendigo toenail, shapeshifter skin, fairy wing, lamia tooth, rugaru bone, siren spit, ectoplasm, anything I could find that would represent a different creature from my stores (that Crowley had generously donated to over time).

I got a wooden bowl, and thought about how exactly I wanted to do this. "I want to set it up to generate randomly," I muttered. "And act like their intended monster, but then when it's defeated I want it to reset." I pulled out my laptop, and went to golem lore. A constantly changing golem was what I would want. However, there wasn't really any that did that.

I called T.J. a minute later. "Hey, I've got a question." I said.

"Little busy!" He muttered. I heard a slash, followed by a scream that wasn't his.

"Weren't you just looking for a grimoire?"

"Yeah!" Something slammed hard near the phone, and I heard T.J. mutter a small set of swears. "Found zombies!"

"Ooh! Zombies!" I went back to my ingredients for a second and rooted around. I knew I had a zombie eye in there somewhere. "Which kind? Bite you and change you kind or just really hungry kind?"

"Regenerating kind!"

"There's a regenerating kind?" I asked. "And you didn't call me?!"

"I DIDN'T KNOW!" He shouted suddenly. "HOLD ON!" There was a slam, followed by more screams and a schlick sound. "KEEP THAT HEAD IN A PILE WITH THE OTHERS!"

"You've got a pile of heads?" I asked.

"It keeps them from reattaching to the bodies!" He muttered.

"What're you doing with the bodies?"

"TRYING TO KILL THEM!"

"Have you tried setting them on fire?" I asked.

"NO MATCHES!" I heard someone else shout something I couldn't hear. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU'VE HAD MATCHES THIS WHOLE TIME?! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL, GARY?!"

"Gary?"

"I'm going to need to call you back." T.J. said.

"You want help?" I offered. "I'm thinking if you kill the brain you should be fine."

"IT'S DECOMPOSING SKIN! IT'LL LIGHT EASY!" T.J. shouted. "TRY THE HEADS!" There was a small pause. "SHIT. RUN!"

"T.J.?!" There was an explosion a second later. "T.J.!"

"WHAT?!"

"What the hell happened?"

"Gary decided to throw a grenade instead of the fucking matches." I could almost feel the flare that went with it.

"Who is Gary again?"

"A complete and utter moron." He answered. "What do you need?"

"I just wanted to bounce an idea off of you."

"You called," T.J. stated. "While I was in the middle of fighting for my life, to bounce around ideas?"

"Yep."

"You're insufferable."

"And you missed me." I challenged. No response. I had him. "Look, it's just a training exercise. I was thinking of modifying a golem so that it worked similarly to Karma's bone, but going with golem lore it wouldn't particularly work easily."

"Does it have to be mobile?"

"Preferably, yeah."

"What about that water copy thing you told me about?" He asked. "Would that work?" I thought it over, running a few calculations through my head.

"Probably." I agreed. "Actually, yeah, that would work no problem. And with it being a water-based creature it would be easy to re-form and disappear for practice. Thanks!"

"No problem. While I've got you here, I have a question."

"For the necromancer to cast a spell like that, they'll need a fair amount of mojo working. At the same time, they'll need to be nearby to cast the spell and keep the zombies regenerating. Ingredients would include a bone from a vampire, hair from a murdered innocent, and…" I thought for a minute. "Blood from the caster, however if they're a novice it'll have knocked them down for a while. If they've got experience they'll still be up and walking, but no spellcasting for a while."

"Check hospitals, recent deaths, and how would you suggest finding a vampire bone?"

"They turn to ash pretty easily." I thought. "But you would need that transition to happen in the middle of the spell."

"That's not helping."

"Are there any recent vampire sightings in the area?" I offered. "Or a possible nest?"

"I'll look in to it." He said.

"And hey, something like this would definitely sap at his life force." I added. "Their hair would definitely have lost its color, maybe even have fallen out. There should be other physical signs too, but that would be the main one."

"Thank you." I could hear his smile. "How is it going in America?"

"Pretty well." I smiled as well. "I'm working on finding older magic and witches that're hiding out here."

"Have you talked with Castiel yet?"

"No." I felt my voice change with it, and I knew T.J. heard it too.

"What happened?"

"I… I watched him kill someone." I said. "Someone important to me." I was about to say more, but I heard it, in the back of my head.

 _Nuh-nah-ee-luh zee-rum ah-duh-fantuh. Oh-law zeer ah tee-loh-kah. Yar-ree fee-fee-suh, pie neez._

It kept repeating over and over, and I could feel it, feel the meaning. Someone was begging for help, begging for rescue. I crouched down, dropping the phone as I clutched my head. I wasn't supposed to hear this. Why was I hearing this? God, it hurt so much.

"Kylie?!" I could barely hear T.J.'s phone. "Kylie!"

 _That's right, call your friends._ A female voice, one I didn't know. _I've waited so long._

Then it stopped. I groaned. That hurt like a bitch. "KYLIE! ANSWER ME!" I picked up the phone slowly, clenching my eyes shut to fight off the migraine.

"Please don't shout." I requested. "It hurts."

"What happened?"

"No idea." I muttered. "I'll call you when I find out."

"Don't you dare hang up on me."

"Sorry." I hit the end call button before he could keep talking. Karma let out a sharp bark, and I could hear her scratching at the wood. "It's OK!" I called out to her, rubbing my forehead. The last time I had a headache like that, Lucifer had a kid conceived.

And it had been blasted out through angel frequencies.

"Fuck." I muttered. Angels. Angels crying out for help. I took a seat, keeping my forehead balanced on my fingertips. "It's not my job." I muttered. "It's not my assignment. It's not what I'm supposed to be looking in to."

Four painkillers, three mistrials in spellwork, and a few hours later I knew where it had originated from. I could go. I could see what had happened.

Or I could stay, and follow up on finding different witches.

"Angels aren't my job." I repeated. "They're not my area. That's…"

Castiel's people. Castiel's job. Not mine. It's not supposed to be mine.

I packed quickly, and went outside. It was a bar that wasn't too far from here, maybe a few hours, tops. It was pretty much closing time anyways. Pop in, pop out, five minutes max, and then I'm back here working on witches.

"It would be wrong for me not to look in to it." I decided. "It would be extremely wrong."

That was what I kept telling myself the whole way there. It would be wrong not to investigate. If angels are getting in trouble someone is hunting them, which is bad. It would be completely irresponsible of me to ignore this.

I couldn't help feeling, though, that no matter how many different ways I tried to rationalize this, it was all just a bunch of lies.


	11. Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

The poor woman was dead, but I could see the wings burned in to the wall behind her. Angel. Definitely angel, and very much dead. The owner had called the police, freaking out like no damn tomorrow. I'd just shown up disguised as fake local PD. If angels were dying, then more angels would come, and they would recognize me. I had to wear my other disguise as well, the one that changed my appearance. And I hated it. I absolutely hated it. I'd gotten used to not having to wear it, but when it came to angels… Better to be safe than sorry.

Besides, others would come along shortly to investigate too. I was just here in case I needed to contact Ketch, let him know what's up.

"Five minutes." I muttered to myself, looking around. I picked up a few angel feathers when I had the chance, then looked at the blade. Definitely angel, but if this angel had one then why was it dead? Why did it still have a blade? Most times when an angel was killed, the blade was taken with it. Why leave this one behind?

I looked around. Everyone was focused on something else, more than a little freaked out as to a bloodless stabbing with burn marks on a wall. I had maybe a minute.

I knelt down next to the woman, putting one hand on hers and the other on the blade. _"Ostende mihi."_ I let one of her feathers burn as I said the words. _Show me_. I closed my eyes, hoping this would work.

 _"You're too old for video games." I was looking through the woman's eyes. She was playing a video game when she heard the other woman's voice. It was the same voice I'd heard earlier, the one I didn't know._

 _She turned to see an older looking woman, with an eyepatch and almost orange hair. She wasn't an angel, though. Just a human. "Were you waitin' to play?" The angel asked._

 _"Everyone deserves a turn." Eyepatch replied. The angel let out a small scoff at her tone._

 _"I'm sorry. Have we met?" I could feel something in the back of her mind, a nagging memory._

 _"Have we?" Eyepatch requested. The angel moved to leave, but the other woman blocked her path. The memory skipped ahead, like a broken record, until I could feel confusion and fear in the angel's mind._

 _"Oh, Benjamin," Eyepatch said. The angel, Benjamin, started to remember this woman, but her name still escaped him. "Your little angel tricks won't work on me. "_

 _When Benjamin produced one blade, the woman bore two, like I did. "Who are you?!" Benjamin demanded._

 _Another skip, and Benjamin was on the wall. I could almost feel it, feel the name of who this woman was as she cried for help. "Don't. Please."_

 _Another short skip, and I saw three names. Not the woman's, but three other angels. Isham. Mirabel. Castiel._

I opened my eyes, releasing the blade and woman as I heard voices behind me. "FBI. We need to take a look at the scene here." Sam's voice. I turned towards the voice, and saw the three of them talking with an officer. Sam, Dean, and… and Castiel.

Benjamin had called out for three angels. Isham. Mirabel. Castiel. I'd probably only heard it because of Castiel's grace.

I had to leave. This wasn't my job. My time was up.

"Move." Castiel requested. I disappeared to behind the building a second later, where my motorcycle and Karma waited. When I appeared, Karma wagged her tail happily.

"We're going, girl." I told her quietly, scratching absent-mindedly behind her ear. I shouldn't have come. I can't be seen by them. They can't know I'm here.

Castiel. That woman's voice again, the one whose name I couldn't get, I could hear it. I let out a short exclamation of pain, clutching my head. How in the hell did angels put up with this? It hurt like all hell was breaking lose in my head.

It had a signature this time, though. I could feel it. She was a human using… Using angel magic. I could find her. I could track her.

Castiel would be looking for her too, though. That was the problem. I could either go in myself, and risk being found, or leave it be.

"Castiel is stuck with walking or driving with the Winchesters." I muttered. "Whereas I'm not. And it's magic, which is what I'm supposed to be looking in to." I thought for a few minutes more before calling T.J. again.

"You scared the absolute SHIT out of me, Kylie!" That was his version of a greeting this time. "I heard you sounding like you're in PAIN and you bloody well decide to HANG UP YOUR DAMN CELL ON ME!"

"Glad to talk with you too." I said, smiling. "How's it going with the Necromancy grimoire?"

"Don't you dare try to avoid explaining yourself." He ordered. "Out with it. What happened?"

"I heard a person using angel magic." I said. "Which I probably wasn't supposed to hear because DAMN did it hurt."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I muttered. "Took some painkillers. Went and looked in to it."

"And?"

"And I think it's because of the angel grace in me."

"What do you mean by that?"

I took some time to explain the situation to him. A human killing an angel. The angel crying out to three specific ones for help. "Isham, Mirabel, and… And Castiel."

"Oh."

"Yeah. The other woman, eyepatch lady, she called out for Castiel again not too long ago." I added. "Probably to the other two as well, but all I can pick up on is what he seems to be getting."

"You're probably right, then." T.J. agreed. "You have a direct link to his grace, meaning a direct link to him."

"It's the only answer I can come up with." I muttered.

"So what are you doing about it?"

"What?"

"There's a woman murdering angels." He said. "And that has more than likely will be targeting the specific one you just so happen to care about. What are you going to do about it?"

"What do you think I'm going to do about it?" I asked. "I can't talk with Castiel. I can't intervene. I can't be seen."

"Why can't you?"

"We're going to go with the phrase 'because I said so' on this and leave it at that." I answered.

"You do understand that if I had told you the exact same thing, your response would've been that that was a bullshit answer and that I would need to face whatever was troubling me, correct?"

"Shut up." I looked around. "I'm going to track down eyepatch. See how in the hell she's doing what she's doing, and if I can learn."

"You should talk with Castiel."

"Not now."

"Why not?"

"Someone is trying to kill him." I pointed out. "You don't think that me randomly showing up would seem a little strange?"

"He may be happy about it."

"Really?" I challenged. "You really think that he would be happy to see me in the middle of all this?"

"Yes!"

"So if you thought that someone you loved was dead, and they showed up in the middle of you being hunted and having an attempted murder aimed at you, you wouldn't find that the least bit suspicious?" I clarified. "Because I would."

"You're American." He replied. "Of course you would." I didn't answer, just waited until he spoke again. "Fine. I can see your point. Under the circumstances, it could easily seem suspicious."

"Thank you." I looked around. "They're inside now. I've got to go get a head start on this woman before the Winchesters and," I took a deep breath. "Castiel catch up."

"Are you going to be alright, being this close?" He asked.

"I think so."

"Good. I've got to go. Ring me if you need anything."

"Bye T.J."

The line went dead, and I took a second to breath before starting to move. I needed to get back to the cabin first, and quickly. It didn't take much for me to just show up there with my motorcycle. Karma followed with ease, barking happy.

"I know you want to play girl, and I'm sorry I don't have anything set up yet." I added. "But I gotta finish this up first." She whined a little bit, but stayed outside as I went in to start the equivalent of a magic backtrace. I had angel feathers from one she'd killed, I had a face, and I had a signature.

I set up quickly, using the same tools I'd used to find Lucifer. This time, though, it would be easier. I'd had recent exposure to the magic. I could funnel that in.

It took maybe thirty minutes, but I had a location. A hotel, maybe an hour or so from where Benjamin had been killed. I could show up, right where she was. She was immune to angel magic, somehow, but I didn't need it to be there.

The question was whether I wanted to go. The others could already be there, or at least on their way. They could find me. And Cas…

If I had had any doubts as to his loyalties before, and what he would do for the Winchesters, I had none now. He would break everything for them, kill for them, do anything. Billie was doing her job, and Castiel had broken a cosmic fucking pact, had KILLED Billie, so that they wouldn't die.

If I ended up being seen as a threat, why wouldn't I get the same treatment?

"I hate life." I finally said. "I absolutely loathe it." I kept repeating those words all the way there, the entire ride on my motorcycle with Karma getting food on the way. I kept repeating those same words up until I got to the hotel I had tracked her to, talked with the guy at the front desk, and traded him 20 bucks for a room number and a blind eye.

I finally stopped repeating those words when I stood in front of her door, ready to knock and see what the hell was going on, and HOW in the hell she knew how to use angel magic.

It was only when I stood in front of her door, full of questions and bullish, headstrong determination, that I stopped and felt it all falter.

She was using angel magic.

I had angelic grace inside me. Could she use it against me? Could she teach me how to use it better? I'd used it before, sparingly, and kind of used it now. Popping around, moving people (but other witches could do that as well without the grace, however they also tended to be much older than me), disappearing, trying to find this woman… I used it as a part of my witch magic. It was a part of me and what I did.

What if there were things she knew that I didn't? What if… What if…

There were a lot of "what if" questions that came out the second I stopped to think about it. I looked down, knowing Karma wasn't going to be there. I was about to talk with a woman that knew how to use angelic magic. It may not be the smartest idea to bring a hellhound, you know?

She knew how to use it, I had it in me and kinda knew a few basic ideas. I knew how to incorporate and how to keep myself alive.

This was training, but it was also opening a new door. New questions. New answers. New things I may or may not want to know.

"The others are too close." I finally said. "They could be here any second working the same lead. I need to leave."

"Then why are you standing in front of my door?" Her voice, the woman's, right behind me. I turned around, startled. "And more importantly, why should I not kill you right now?"

I took a moment to look at her, the woman I'd come here to talk with. She had red hair, like me. She was older than me. She understood angelic magic better than me.

She flicked her wrist, revealing two angelic blades. I flicked mine as well to reveal the other similarity, and she looked from my weapons to me. "Impressive." She commented.

"I have questions." I admitted.

"You found me, you have two angel blades, and you haven't given me a verbal answer as to why I shouldn't kill you." She said, mulling it over. "I'm working. Personal business. Come find me afterwards."

"I can't." I said. "I don't know if you'll be alive then."

"What do you mean?"

"I know what you did, and I know who you're looking for." I explained. "And I also know who is looking for you now."

"So?"

"Just give me five minutes." I requested. "It's important, please."

"Why should I?" She asked. "I can handle them no problem."

"Because I can do this." I focused on not her, but on the only nearby thing I could think of, her doorknob. I focused on it solely with the angelic magic. Castiel had told me how he could do that, at one point. He could unlock a door and open it without touching it. Hopefully, I could do the same.

A few tense seconds later, the door slowly unlocked an opened. The woman looked from me to the door, then back to me again. "You used angelic magic." She stated.

"And you can too." I replied.

"Except your version is different." She looked to her room. "Come in. We need to talk. My name is Lily Sunders, by the way." She offered a hand, and I noticed that her hand was red with blood.

"You're hurt."

"Not anymore." She lifted her shirt to show me clear skin. "This is where it used to be." There was still a red stain on the skin, but no signs of being hurt.

"How did you do that? You're not a witch."

"The same way you opened the door, almost." She stated. "Go in. Sit down. We're going to talk."


	12. Hard Truths

Lily sat on her bed, a notebook in hand as she examined me like a scientist. "State your name, your age, and how long you've been able to do what you did."

"My name is Diana." I lied. "Diana Nyx. I'm 22 years old. I've been able to do this for about a year and a half, max. I don't have complete control over it, though."

"What caused it?"

"I got a shot of angelic grace to my system." Technically 100% true.

"How?"

"I couldn't let him die." I said. "It's all… a very, very long story." Lily thought for a second, understanding coloring her face as she moved on to the next question.

"How long would you say I had until these supposed people that are hunting me show up?"

"Probably not long." I shrugged. "I didn't see them leave the scene, but they're not stupid. They've got resources."

"You didn't track them?"

"No."

"What do they look like?"

"There's an angel, one you've been trying to track down. Castiel." I said. "I think you know who he is."

"I do."

"And there are two others, Hunters. Tall. Wear flannel. Human."

"I'm certain that I've met them, then." She answered. I stared at her I surprise, and she just showed me her hand one more time before getting up to wash it. "They're very determined to keep this angel alive."

"I… I want him to live too." I answered. "It's his grace inside of me. That's how I heard you. That's how I heard Benjamin."

She turned off the tap, returning to her notes a minute later. "You have angelic grace inside of you that belongs to Castiel and… I'm gonna guess you're not a Nephilim, are you?"

"No." She scoffed, jotting down something.

"Of course not. Why else would you be alive?" She muttered. "When did you get some source of control of utilizing the borrowed grace?"

"I've had multiple near-death experiences that let me tap in to it." I answered. "And I can feel it intermix with my witchcraft sometimes."

"You're a witch?" She asked. I nodded. "And you have angelic grace inside of you?" Another nod. "And you're still alive?"

"Should I… not be?"

"That's a good question." She replied. "You're unique. You're different. You weren't born to any of this, yet it's a part of you." She thought for just a moment. "Which came first? Witchcraft or grace?"

"Witchcraft." I muttered. "Not a lot though. Just… Just trying to keep people alive and do some minor tracking."

"Witchcraft is witchcraft." She said. "What kind are you? Borrower, Natural, or Trainee?" I remembered Rowena teaching me about that and the three main types of witches. Lily had done her homework.

"Natural."

"How?"

"My mother."

"Did she train you?"

"No. She… She passed."

"Then how do you know?"

"Extremely longer story."

"You're unusual, aren't you?"

"Can I ask a few questions now?" I tried. "I want to know how you're using angel magic." She jotted down a few more notes before stopping and taking a deep breath.

"You said you were saving him, I presume you meant Castiel?" She asked. I nodded. "Were you in love with him?"

"Yeah." I felt a lump in my throat as I said the word.

"Are you still?" That one made the lump only grow bigger.

"Yes." I admitted quietly. "He doesn't know I'm here though. He doesn't even know I'm still alive."

"It's not easy to love an angel, is it?" She sounded almost… wistful, for a moment. "They're just so… divine and different and pure and you think that they're the brightest sun in the world. But then, then they become monsters. They become obsessive and cruel and just… You start to see demons in angels."

That was when Lily explained her story. How old she was. How she'd spent her life studying angels. How she'd applied her studies to being able to actually wield angelic power. How angels had come for her and her daughter and how they'd killed her.

And how Castiel had been one of them, too; one of the ones sent to kill Lily's daughter and another angel that was protecting them, Akobel. He hadn't killed, but he had been there to make sure it happened.

"There's no way he knew." I defended. "He wouldn't… He wouldn't kill an innocent person, he wouldn't do that."

"He's an angel." Lily replied. "They only follow orders. If they're told to kill, they will kill. It doesn't matter what is right or wrong."

"But Castiel…" I stopped, remembering what I'd seen. It didn't matter what was right or wrong. He'd killed Billie to save the Winchesters.

"It hurts to love one, doesn't it?" She asked.

I didn't answer, just thought for a moment. "So your soul…" I finally said. "It's burning away? Every time you use angel magic?"

"Yeah. That's why I'm not going to teach you how to use it." She said. "I used to dream about my little girl, May, in the beginning. I could see her face smiling every night. Now..." She shook her head. "I don't dream anymore. I don't need to sleep very much either. My humanity, it leaves with each piece of my soul." I could feel the weight of her words on my shoulders, as though I was Atlas. When was the last time I'd had any sort of dream or nightmare? When was the last time I'd slept well? What if it was happening to me too?

"Is there any way to get your soul back?" She shook her head again.

"Not that I know of."

"Will my soul..." I almost didn't finish the question. I was afraid to ask. "Will mine break away too?"

"I don't really know." She answered. "Like I said, you're different and unique. You have a strange set of variables attached to you." She thought for a second. "You would have to wait and find out. Do you feel as though your soul is being removed in small increments?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Would you like me to check?"

"You can do that?"

"Yes."

"But… wouldn't it also take out another piece of your soul?"

"Yes."

"Then… Then no." I said. "I'll find another way."

"And what about utilizing your angelic grace?"

"I don't know how to use them much anyways." I said. "It's kind of just a thing that's there. It's incorporated a bit in to what I do in general, but for me to solely use it intentionally I've either got to focus extremely hard, or be under extreme duress." I re-thought for a second. "Yeah, those are the only times it was pure grace. The other times I kind of used it the angelic grace was more or less intermixed in with the witchcraft."

"What kind of duress?"

"Life-or-death, every time." I remembered how each one went when it was directly angelic power. I was about to die, or Castiel was. "Save for when I opened your door."

"And what did you do with the intentional use, when it was extreme duress?"

"Force push, pretty much." I said. "Trying to get people off or away."

"Alright." She wrote down a few more things. "So what do you want to do now?"

"Huh?"

"You came here for training, and answers." She said. "And now at this point you won't be getting training, but instead have acquired answers, even though they may not have been the ones you wanted. So with what you've learned, what do you intend on doing now?"

"I guess… Going back to learning more witchcraft." I said. "Figuring out a way to see whether or not this is killing my soul along the way."

"What about the angel you are attached to?"

"If you kill him, would that affect me, since I have his grace?"

"No." She shook her head. "Any physical harm on him or his life would have no affect on you, without other spellwork in place. However, if I try to track him, then I would also get a weak lead to you." I wished I had a notebook to jot notes in as well. "It's only a tie that you have to his grace, but it is a faint tie. Unless someone is outright attacking the entirety of his grace with a spell, you're fine. Any physical damage, though, does nothing."

It made a bit of sense, but it would probably take some working through to understand. The best I could figure was that it was almost like an organ donor thing. "Alright." I said. "I guess I'll be going now."

"If you begin to experience complications in the future, please find me." She requested, tearing a page out of her notebook. Written on it was a phone number. "I'd like to be able to help you, if I can. I see a lot of myself in you, when I was younger."

"OK." I took it, and stared for a moment at the page. I didn't leave the room though. Not yet.

"Is there something still bothering you?"

"Don't kill him." I didn't even hesitate. I couldn't help it. "Please. Don't kill Castiel."

"He was one of the angels that lead to the death of my daughter." She said. "He was one of the angels responsible."

"Please, don't." I begged. "He's changed. He's better. He's not the monster you think he is."

"If he wasn't a monster," she posed. "Then why are you here instead of there, with the angel you were in love with? Why did your voice falter when you attempted to defend him the first time?" I didn't have a good answer. She nodded, understanding. "I believe you think that he is changed, but at the same time I don't believe he is as changed as you would like him to be. This will be something that I shall have to see for myself."

"And if he is?" I needed to know. I needed there to be some sort of hope.

"If I'm wrong, and he is as good as you claim he is," she said. "Then I'll leave him be."

"Thank you, then." I could feel the relief in my words. She would see he wasn't bad, or at least not as bad as she thought he was. "For everything."

"I hope you find what you're looking for." She smiled a little bittersweet smile with it. "We are very alike, you and I. I hope you are able to find a better path than I was." I nodded, and walked out.

I went back to the cabin, letting it all rattle around in my head until I just… couldn't, anymore. I didn't know what to do with that information. I had to leave, had to separate myself from the Winchesters and Castiel and everything until I knew how to deal with this, how to acknowledge that I may be destroying my own soul.

I went to Arkansas the next day. Rowena had told me about a sanctuary for witches that had once been there, near Eureka Springs. She hadn't been necessarily HAPPY to tell me this information, but I'd been very persistent on pretending to want to know her backstory and where other witches may be found. But as far as Rowena knew, they were all dead. They had been dead for a long time. There were rumors about their grimoire getting away, but nothing concrete.

I didn't have any other leads, and I wanted to check it out. I didn't know where else to go. Besides, other witches may still go to the place as well, and it was something. And if there were other witches, they could teach me how to separate my magic from the angel grace, hopefully. They may even be able to determine how much of my soul was left. It was an option, it was a part of my assignment, and I was going to dive head-first in it.

I knocked on the front door of their door, determination on my face. A woman answered, giving me a short once-over. "Who do you think you are?" She asked, smirking.

"Powerful." I answered, casting out a hand. She flew backwards, slamming hard in to the wall.

"Did you come here for a fight?" She asked, prepping her own retaliation. I shook my head.

"I came here to train." I answered. "You have power. I want to learn it."

"What makes you think I'll tell you anything?" She asked. I stopped for a moment, thinking about my surroundings. There were two people trying to sneak up behind me.

"Karma," I said calmly. "Speak."

She had been behind my motorcycle, but now she was growling at the two men behind me. They stopped their advances immediately, looking around. She let out a short bark, startling the woman in front of me even.

"Train me." I requested again. I wasn't pleading, nor was I demanding. It was a simple request, almost as though I was asking her to pass me the salt. "Please. I promise I'm worth it."

"You have a hellhound." The woman in front of me said.

"She's a good dog." I answered. The woman looked me over, before nodding at the two men behind me.

"I'm Kat." She extended a hand. "The two behind you are my brothers, Boyd and Gideon."

"Diana Nyx." I shook her hand, offering her a short smile. "Let's talk."


	13. Temporary Witch Training

I trained with them as long as they would teach me, keeping Ketch updated as I did. "They have an old grimoire." I explained to him. "Once I get a solid shot at it, I'll start sending you digital copies."

"What about getting the physical book?"

"It'll be difficult. They're still training me, and I can't do too much to make them suspicious yet. They're still uncertain about me."

"But you're certain this phone call is secure?"

"Oh yeah." I muttered. "This is secure." I checked my clothes every day to make sure I didn't have anything on me that could be used to track my location or listen in on my conversations, as well as my phone and anything else I owned.

"Excellent, then." Ketch said. "Make sure to keep me updated on the situation."

"How is Mary doing?"

"She is excelling within our group." He sounded proud. "Definitely a well-suggested asset, Dillinger. Keep up the good work."

"Thanks." I smiled a little. "And T.J.? How is he doing on his assignments?"

"He acquired the necromancer's grimoire two days ago, and is currently undergoing debriefing while our people work to decipher, transcribe, and copy the book."

"Need any help on that?" I offered.

"No thank you." Ketch said. "You're doing well in your own assignment. Stay focused on that, and keep me informed as to any possible updates."

"Will do." I agreed. "Tell Mary and T.J. hello for me."

"I will send them your regards." Ketch promised. That was it. I didn't have a lot of big information I could tell him that he would understand. The magic was old, incredibly old, and incredibly specific and singular. There was no easy way to learn any of this without Kat or Gideon or Boyd.

To keep tabs on me and help keep a steady income going towards the house, Gideon set me up as an intern where he worked. Accounting business, surprisingly. Incredibly non-shady, for hella old and extremely powerful witches. It was strange how normal the work seemed.

An accountant with ties to old Druid magic. What a strange world.

They started off teaching me without the book. I'd seen it, once, but it was under more fortifications and enchantments than I had ever seen. I wasn't even certain I could break through all of them without help. So I left the book be, and concentrated on what they could teach me.

There's no way to describe properly as to what they knew. The power, the spells, the magic… It was old. Extremely old. Old enough that I couldn't tamper with it or modify it in any way, not easily. It would take actual focus, and probably a few days' worth of experimentation, to even begin to start to meddle around with this.

Their focus, though, was memory. They knew tons of other work, too. I honestly could've re-enacted the apple-throwing trees from Wizard of Oz with what they knew, but they liked memory spells the most.

"If you can destroy a person's mind," Kat had explained. "Then the rest is easy. The mind controls everything. It's best to burn the stump fast before two heads can grow back, and how can a person re-group if they don't remember what to do?"

When we got in to the more complex memory spells, that was when they started using the book to show me directly. I caught glimpses from time to time as to the contents of its pages, but nothing concrete. Just a few titles here and there. Destruction. Memory. Earth. Elements. Pain. Life. Nothing that ever gave me a lead as to exactly everything I could learn from that book. It was a closely guarded family secret, and I wasn't family.

So when Gideon came home in a flying rage, I wasn't certain as to why. It was my day off. I was training in a different set of the book with Boyd, resurrection spells. We were practicing on dead rats.

"Who killed Barry?!" Gideon screamed, random bits of small furniture flying about the room. "WHO KILLED HIM?!"

"Barry Gilman?" I asked. "Our boss?"

"WAS IT YOU, LITTLE WITCH?!" He screamed. I didn't have a second to prepare myself before he struck, and my arm was suddenly burning without a flame. I cried out, clutching it as the burn marks slowly turned from 1st to 2nd degree. I cried out in pain, and heard Karma howl outside. "DID YOU DO IT?! DID YOU KILL HIM?!"

"Settle down, Gideon!" Kat shouted, waving a hand. My arm stopped burning immediately, but it wouldn't be easy to heal. "I killed the bastard."

"Why?!"

"Kat!" Boyd shouted up at her. Nobody was really paying much attention to me with the burning arm. I took a moment to heal myself, careful to use only a spell they'd taught me instead of anything I may have been able to do myself.

"He was stealing from us." Kat explained calmly, looking over at Boyd. "Gideon showed me the numbers." I remembered that. I'd seen some strange things going on in a few accounts yesterday and asked Gideon about it. He'd looked at the pages for maybe three minutes before storming away and telling me to take the rest of the day off. When Gideon had come home, he had gone straight to talking with his brother and sister. "So I showed him how much of an error that was on his part."

"You suffocated him with money!" Gideon shouted.

"What if Hunters come for us?!" Boyd asked.

"Then we will deal with them, as we always have." Kat answered, looking over at me. "Even better, now. It's time for our little huntress Diana to pay us back for her training." She looked from me to outside, where Karma stayed. "I think a hellhound should provide well enough protection, don't you think?"

That was the price. If I was going to be trained by them, I had to be willing to have Karma protect them.

Boyd and Gideon turned to look at me, waiting for my answer.

"If they come," I said. "Then I'll stop them, easy enough."

I got moved to a different department after that, but still working under Gideon. He was putting as much distance between himself and his dead boss as possible. Three days later, though, Gideon didn't come home. When we went out looking, we found his body.

And the spell he'd cast.

Whichever Hunters were after him, were going to forget themselves. It was like dementia, but much faster and crueler. I was punished for that, thanks to Boyd. Hunters came, and I didn't protect Gideon. He wanted to go hunt them down, he was seething and determined to, but Kat said to wait.

So Boyd took his anger out on the Hunters on me. He wasn't a patient person. I didn't quite heal so well from those burns, nor could I get a hold of Ketch. It was too dangerous. Kat and Boyd were on edge, determined to get their brother back.

They brought his body back to the house, and kept the book open to a reanimating spell. "You've got power." Kat said, looking at me determined. "You're going to help bring him back, since you failed to keep him safe."

"Yes ma'am." I said, keeping my head bent. Karma was outside, monitoring the perimeter. She wasn't going to kill, I wouldn't let her kill Hunters, but she was going to howl if they came.

The only reason we were still here was for the book.

So I worked with Boyd on trying to resurrect Gideon, the book right in front of me to reference the entire time. The only problem was that Boyd was there too, the entire time, keeping a close eye on me as I worked.

That night I heard Karma give out a single, sharp bark before stopping. I stopped my work then, as did Boyd. "Karma!" I shouted, starting to run towards the door. She wasn't dead, I knew she wasn't. Her job was to make that noise and then disappear directly afterwards. But I had to pretend I thought she was hurt.

Boyd stopped me before I could get to the door, though, physically restraining me with his arms.

"Hunters are here." He said, his voice menacing and angry. "If you run now, I'll kill you before they do. Bring him back," he pointed at Gideon. "And we'll forgive you not being able to keep our brother alive like you promised."

"Fine." I agreed. "Just let me go save my dog."

"Forget the dog. Resurrect Gideon." He grasped my wrist tightly, burning runes in to my skin as he did. "Stay in this room." He ordered before running out the door. I took a look at the new engravings on my wrist. It was effectively the equivalent of a witchbag, one that would activate if I left the room.

"This is gonna hurt like a bitch." I muttered, making a decision on the spot. I ran back to the book and pulled out my phone. I had to work fast, photographing every single page that I could. I didn't know how much time I had before Boyd or Kat came in. I hoped the Hunters would manage.

I finished as soon as I could, thanking whoever would listen that I had been able to make digital copies of every page in the book. I was about to upload them to Ketch when I stopped, hearing a man scream in the house.

It was a voice I recognized, though, and one that made me want to curse whoever the fuck was in charge of fate.

It was Sam.

No. Why them? Why in the hell does it always have to be them? Was Cas with them? Which one of them had had the memory spell put on them?

"Fuck." I muttered. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."

I could leave. I could bail out, if I wanted to. It would hurt like a son of a bitch, but if they killed Boyd then I'd be fine afterwards. Or I could always just try to break it on my own. With magic this complex, though, it wouldn't be easy, much less safe.

Or I could stay, and risk being seen. I hadn't worn a disguise around Kat and Boyd and Gideon, and they'd find it strange if I did now. But if they had Sam, then Dean wouldn't be far behind.

If they had Sam, then Sam had enough mental power to get here on his own, which meant he didn't forget.

If they had Sam, then Dean wouldn't coming to rescue him, because Dean wouldn't remember and Sam wouldn't want to put him in danger.

Sam had come in here, either alone or just with Castiel. They would be in danger. They would have no idea exactly how dangerous these people were.

Goddammit, why couldn't I just leave?! I had to do something, though. Anything.

Rowena had taught me how to cast my consciousness out, and view people from afar. Sam and Dean needed help. Who better to fight witches than another witch?

I stashed my phone, shutting my eyes as I worked fast. I couldn't get a clear image, but I could feel her. Rowena was close already. She could help. I tried to push a sense of urgency, and the location, but Boyd and Kat's laughter cut me off before I could see if it worked.

I opened the book back to the resurrection page it had been on, and resumed work as though nothing had happened. Boyd and Kat came in, laughing, with a bound Sam Winchester dragged behind them. No Castiel, though. Maybe he wasn't here. If he hadn't come in he was somewhere else. Good. One less person to worry about.

Boyd propped him up in a nearby chair, whereas Kat came to check on my work.

"You've come a long ways very quickly, little witch!" She commented, examining my work. "Very good!" She clapped her hands together, excited. "And with this new Hunter, we'll be able to use his soul instead of yours to bring our brother back! Excellent!"

"Thank you." I said, keeping my voice quiet in case Sam woke up.

"Keep working with Boyd." She instructed. "I'm going to go keep watch for other Hunters."

"My dog, Karma," I said, feigning worry in hopes that they would let me leave. "Is she OK? Can I go check on her?"

"She's dead." Kat said. "Or she's gone off somewhere to die from whatever the Hunter did to her. Either way, no concern of ours anymore." I looked down at my wrist, taking a glance at the bonds that were still on me. Kat looked down as well, following my gaze. "Boyd, what did you do to her?" She asked, turning to him. He was looking at Sam just a little too gleefully.

"I didn't want her to get scared and scamper off." He said, not taking his eyes off the younger Winchester. Kat shrugged.

"We'll take those off when Gideon is back." Kat decided. "Call it final reparations for us not using your soul to bring back the person you couldn't protect." She turned back to her brother, who had advanced on Sam. I could see ideas forming in his head, as could Kat. "Boyd, you promised." She said softly, picking up a nearby wooden box. She brought it back to me, and had me hold it for her. "Without Gideon, we are not a family."

Boyd looked over from Sam to Kat, and I bowed my head immediately. I could see Sam wasn't knocked out, not quite. He was waiting, listening, biding his time. "Well, you should've thought of that before you went behind his back and pinata'd the accountant." Boyd pointed out. Kat just scoffed at him. "Gideon told you to let it go." He added. Kat turned back to me, obscuring me from Sam's view. I opened the box for her, and watched as she withdrew a blade. I put the box back on the table, keeping my back to Sam as I focused on working.

"Thank you, Diana." She said to me before turning back to her brother. "And let us be cheated by some sniveling, weak human nothing?"

"You got our brother killed." Boyd reminded her, coming to the table to watch as I kept working. I took a glance at Kat. She looked… unchanged. She was the one pushing the hardest to bring her brother back, but she looked as though she couldn't care less.

"Hmmm. Well, we," she looked from Boyd to me, smiling as she showed us her knife. It was black, and… It screamed, if that makes any sense. The knife screamed as though it was enduring a thousand different tortures. That was the blade they'd used before, for everything. That was one they'd created with a spell from this book. "Can bring him back." She finished, smiling at the weapon, now.

She stopped when we heard the front door open. Kat looked annoyed, glancing from the door to me and Boyd. She handed me the knife. "Finish it." She ordered. "Bring back our brother, and you'll be a part of our family. You'll be one of us." I stared at the blade in my hands. "Do it," she crooned. "Please. For me?"

I nodded. I had to. They had to believe I would. She smiled. "I'm so happy to have a new sister!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I'm going to go see who our new guest is."

Once she was out of the room, Sam spoke up. "You don't wanna do this." He said. "Neither of you do."

I glanced up at Boyd, and he nodded, motioning for me to keep going as he turned to Sam.

"Well, well, well. Look who's awake." Boyd muttered. I could almost hear the cruel smile on his face. I took a look at the spell in place. We were already over halfway through with it being done. If I was going to change something, I had to do it now.

"Okay, so whatever your sister has planned, you don't have to do it." Sam repeated. "You're not one of them. You can change." I could feel his words pointed at me for just a moment. "I don't know what they have over you, but you can stop. You don't have to keep going." I made myself get back to work. I could feel an idea, a way to change the spell so that Gideon would never be resurrected. Sam changed his target from me to Boyd. "And you don't have to follow whatever orders your sister gives you."

"You mean, swapping your soul for his?" Boyd asked. Sam didn't speak, and I didn't risk looking back to check on him. I had a plan, now, a way to stop this. I had to alter a few symbols and I could do it. I just couldn't blow it yet. "I'm afraid I do."

I finished my work, smiling. I only had a few moments, and this was going to hurt like a bitch, but I had to do something. I looked over at the window. That would have to be my exit.

 _"Death chumas sibh."_ I said, gaining Boyd's attention. I looked up in to his eyes and smiled. _"DEATH CHUMAS SIBH!"_

Translation: _Death keeps you._

Gideon would never get up again. What's dead should stay dead, and I was making sure that that was happening. I couldn't help but think that Gideon would be proud.

"NO!" Boyd screamed, lunging to stop me. I stabbed the blade in to Gideon, and watched as the force of what I'd done pushed Boyd back in to the wall next to Sam. I stopped, making eye contact with the Hunter for a moment.

"You?" He asked. I didn't reply, Boyd was advancing.

"TRAITOR!" He screamed, making another lunge at me. "WE TAUGHT YOU EVERYTHING!" I acted fast, yanking the blade out of Gideon's body before chucking it at Boyd. I could still throw knives, after all. It hit him in the shoulder (I was a little rusty at it), but it stopped his advancement. That was all I needed. I turned, running towards the window.

"Kylie, DON'T!" Sam cried out. I jumped, curling in to a small ball as the glass shattered around me and I hurtled towards the ground. I screamed, the pain becoming instantaneous as my body exited the room. I did my best to focus, hoping I could hurt myself as little as possible as I fell to the ground.

I felt my ankle break as I managed to roll, scratching the rest of me up as I worked to get away. I heard Boyd scream above me as I kept rolling, not stopping until I rolled straight in to something solid and metal that I was CERTAIN wasn't there last time I checked.

I shook my head, fighting off the headache from banging headfirst in to a….

A Chevy '67 Impala.

"Jackpot." I muttered, grasping the door handle to pull myself up. Once I was mostly standing I slumped against the car frame, taking deep breaths to steady myself as I fought off the pain. I needed to heal my ankle, definitely. But I also needed to keep going and get away.

In all honesty, I needed to call Ketch.

I reached in to my pocket, pulling out my phone until I looked in to the window. Dean was staring out in surprise, absolutely shocked at my presence. He pointed at me, as if trying to say words, but none came out.

"Shit, it was you, wasn't it?" I asked. "You're the one that can't remember." He just kept pointing at me, confused and uncertain. "Great. Your brother is in there, trapped. Hopefully Rowena is in there saving him, but nobody is coming outside, so…" I shook my head, but all that did was make it hurt more. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK."

I opened the driver's side door, pulling myself in to sit next to him. There were two sticky notes, both written in Rowena's handwriting. "Thank God." I muttered, reading them. One explained his situation. The other one told him to stay in the car. I turned back to look at Dean, who was just staring uncertain. "OK, we're going to check out what's going on here." I said, putting my hand on his forehead.

The damage to his memory was severe. He would need a spell from their Grimoire to fix it. Nothing I could do now without that book and time would be able to fix him, and if I tried to change it myself with whatever I could make up off the top of my head, I would risk killing him.

I removed my hand, staring at him in surprise. "How are you still vertical?" I asked. He shrugged. "Wait, you understand what I'm saying?" I asked. Nod. "Do you know who I am?" He paused, nodded, then shook his head. "Kind of?" A nod. "And you can read?" Another nod.

"Great. I've got a plan." I decided, leaning over him to root around in the glove box. Dean scooted back as far as he could in his seat, genuinely confused as to my motives. I ignored him, and kept looking until I found what I was looking for. "Jackpot." I finally said, pulling out sticky notes and a pen. "Ok, here's what's going to happen." I said, moving back to look at him. "I'm going to write you a note so that you don't forget what you need to do," I started scribbling on a sticky note, looking back up at him to make sure he was following. That was when I saw he was asleep.

"Shit." It was getting extremely worse. I had to change the plan. I thought for a moment before hauling myself out of the car. Rowena and Sam should've been out by now. They should've been out by now!

I moved to the trunk, opening it quickly as I took inventory. They had witch-killing bullets, good. I scribbled a label on the sticky note and put it on the bullets, and added another for a gun. I stared at their inventory a little longer, my eyes falling on an extremely large gun.

"Dean would try this." I muttered, scribbling the largest "NO" that I could on the sticky note and attaching it firmly to the weapon. Finally I slammed the trunk closed, writing an "OPEN ME" on one more sticky note to go on it before I hobbled over to the passenger's side. This was going to be tricky.

I slammed my hand on Dean's forehead, focusing hard on the little bits of his brain functions that were left. "Ignore the STAY." I whispered quickly, imagining Rowena's note as I did. "Open the trunk." I thought about the back of the car, and the weapons in it. "Save everyone." I imagined Rowena and Sam. "Hurry." I removed my hand and slammed the door closed, doing my best to move away. I couldn't save them myself, not now. If I wasn't careful I wouldn't even be able to save myself anymore.

I dragged myself away to a few nearby trees, watching as Dean got out of the car and moved to the car's trunk. A few minutes later, he had the gun, loaded with bullets, and was advancing on the house.

I smiled in relief. "Please live." I begged, watching the house as I finally pulled out my phone. I hit the first number I could on speed dial, hoping that I could stay conscious just long enough to get help. Ketch would come. Someone would come.

"Hello?" Male. Not who I thought I would call, but it was someone. I focused on the phone, trying to get my sight to stop blurring so much. "Hello?"

"Help." I finally croaked out, dropping the phone. I curled in to a small ball, fighting off the pain as I tried to do anything to alleviate some of the pain. Maybe if I could heal my ankle?

I wrapped my hands around it, grasping my ankle lightly as I tried to focus some sort of power to save me. "Kylie?" I was still on a phone call. "Kylie! Answer me!"

I pushed every bit of power I could towards my ankle, hoping it would work to heal me.

"KYLIE?!"

I looked back up at the house. They weren't walking out. Nobody was walking out. I just had to hope and pray that something had worked. There was a gunshot, one, and I smiled.

Dean was going to save them.

They were going to make it out. I just knew it.

"They're going to make it." I muttered, smiling a little bit. There was a second shot, and the pain disappeared from the rest of me, save for the ankle. "Thank God." I sighed. I was so weary, though, and my ankle and head still hurt like a bitch. I probably had some sort of concussion. It was making it really hard to keep my head up and answer.

"KYLIE!"

"I…" It hurt so much to try and focus, now. I leaned over to the side and puked on the ground next to me. A second later there were hands on my shoulders, lifting me up.

"You have a concussion." Crowley muttered, looking over at the phone. "You call me with a concussion. Great." He looked over at the house, hearing a door open. "Come on. We're leaving."

The second he transported me, I was out cold.


	14. Sam And Dean (3rd POV)

Sam finished explaining what he'd seen to Dean as he drove, determination on his face as he mulled over the new information.

"Are you certain it was her?" He finally asked. "Are you certain it was Kylie?"

"I only saw her for a few moments," Sam said. "But I heard her voice. And I watched her. I'm certain she's alive. I'm certain it was her."

"Where has she been?" Dean asked. "Why hasn't she come back? She abandoned us to the CIA, and just abandoned us in general. What was she doing with those witches?"

"I don't know, but I think… I think she saved my life." He said. "They were trying to bring back the witch you killed. She… She made sure they couldn't, and afterwards stabbed the witch you shot. I think she even made sure you could get to us to help." Sam held up some sticky notes he'd found. "These two were in Rowena's handwriting," he held up the "STAY" and the one explaining what had happened to him. "But these others," he held up four. One for the trunk, one for a weapon that Dean wasn't supposed to use, the witch-killing bullets, and the correct gun. "This is her handwriting, Dean. It had to be her there."

"Then again, where has she been?" Dean asked. "What was she doing there?"

"I don't know." Sam looked at his phone. "I've tried calling her number, but it's disconnected. Same for the one we got from Diana."

"But Diana is Kylie." Dean added.

"And that's what the witches were calling her, too." Sam added. "It's the new name she's going by. I don't know why, but… She's hiding. She's hiding and trying to figure things out and she… She's avoiding us, for some reason." He said. "Are you certain you didn't see her outside?"

"I don't remember seeing her at all." Dean said. "Then again, I don't really remember much until after Rowena put my head back on straight."

"Do you think she could've been there?"

"I don't know, and honestly, I don't know if I want to know." Dean admitted. Sam was about to ask why, confused and hurt, but Dean started before Sam could speak again. "Look, let's face facts. She's been gone for almost a year now, right? A year that she's supposed to have been dead. If she was alive that whole time… What would Cas think, man?" Dean asked. "If she's been avoiding us, avoiding Cas, what would that do to him if he learned? And why in the hell has she been avoiding us for that long? Does she even remember who we are?"

"It looked like she did." Sam said. "It looked like she knew exactly who I was."

"Then if she knows who we are, why hasn't she told us she's alive?" Dean asked.

"We did kind of point guns at her, more than once." Sam pointed out.

"Still, why wouldn't she?" Dean kept up. "If we sat down and talked with her about it, doesn't she think that we'd understand?"

"She may not." Sam said. "Think about it. Would you?"

"Yeah."

"Bad example, then." Sam said. "But we haven't really been that nice to her, all things considered. Not recently. We've shouted at her. We've threatened her. We've shown we don't trust her because she's a witch." With each thing Sam rattled off, he felt worse and worse. "We've been cruel and absolutely awful to her. Why would she even want to come back and tell us? Maybe she was there with us, hiding, to see if she actually could or not."

"That sounds way too complicated." Dean answered. "And just… just way too much right now without a beer or two. How's that sound?"

"Fine." Sam agreed. "We'll let it rest for now. But what about Cas?"

"We don't tell him." Dean answered. "No use giving him false hope if there is none."

"What do you mean, false hope?" Sam asked. "Kylie is alive! We all saw her back with Rooney, and then I saw her again with the witches!"

"Yeah, and is she in the car with us right now?" Dean asked. Sam didn't have a good answer for that. "No, and do you wanna know why? Because if that was Kylie, then she doesn't want to be here with us for whatever reasons. If she was with Cas, he would've called and told us. She's keeping her distance from all of us." Dean cast Sam a sidelong glance. "Do you really think that we should tell Cas that hey, his dead fiancée is actually alive, but she's been hiding from him and everyone else for reasons unknown and we have no idea how to find her?"

"Fine." Sam conceded. "We leave it be."

"If Kylie wants to come back, she knows where to find us." Dean said. "But for now, I think it's best if we leave her be to do whatever she thinks she needs to do."

"What if she's in trouble?" Sam asked. Dean let out a small huff of air.

"Then we hope she'll call." That was the only answer he could think of. He didn't know what else to do.


	15. Checking In

I woke up to cold water being splashed on my face. "I swear, Fergus!" Rowena shouted. "Why in the hell have you been hiding this from me?"

"Because she asked." I heard Crowley answer. I sat up slowly, rubbing my head.

"Can you take it down a notch?" I muttered. "My head is killing me." I put a hand to it, not even thinking as I healed myself. I moved it away just as quickly, taking a short inventory of myself. No more broken ankle. Same clothes on, but phone on the table. Headache now gone. No feeling like I had a witchbag attached to me.

I was fixed and fine.

I looked around the room, my eyes landing on Crowley and Rowena in turn, standing in my small room back at the cabin. It had been Crowley that I'd called, he was on my speed dial still.

"Kylie!" Rowena exclaimed, running up to hug me tightly. I stiffened like a board, surprised at the sudden… emotion, I guess? The sudden positivity from Rowena towards me. "I can't begin to tell you how happy I am that you're alive."

"The last time you remember seeing me, you tried to kill me." I pointed out as she pulled away. "Actually, you forced Castiel to try to kill myself and your son." I looked over at Crowley, and he tossed me my phone.

"It's been ringing like a man possessed all day." He said. "Someone named Ketch. A friend, I presume?"

"Thanks." I caught it easily.

"Sorry about the whole murder thing by the way, dearest." Rowena apologized. "But that was, what, almost two years ago? Bygones be bygones, I always say." Crowley huffed at that, rolling his eyes.

"I'm guessing you told her?" I asked Crowley.

"I had to." He said. "It was the easiest way to make sure you would be alright."

"Aww, you care." I said, offering him a sarcastic smirk. "I almost feel like… Like we're family, now."

"Shut up." He muttered, moving Rowena aside as he came up towards me. He stared me down hard, his teeth gritted as he stared at me. "Don't do that again, you bloody idiot." He muttered, looking away as he awkwardly pat me on the back.

"I promise, next time I put myself in a compromising position with insane witch triplets, I'll have a better exit plan." I thought for a minute. "How did you find me? I know I called, but there's no way you were able to get a cell phone trace that fast."

"Actually, I had other means of finding you." He admitted. "I believe you remember Karma?" As he spoke, I heard a happy bark coming from outside. "She came and found me around the same time that you called."

"I've got to go give her a whole cow to chase after or something." I muttered. "She's a good dog."

"Why do you think I gave you that one?" Crowley asked. Rowena looked from me to him.

"You give HER a bloody hellhound, but you can't say a kind word to your own mother?!" She sounded absolutely surprised and insulted by the notion. She turned back and took a second look at me. "AND She dyed her hair red! What are you trying to do, replace your own mother?!"

"I actually kinda always wanted to dye my hair." I said. "Remember, I originally went with punk-ish dark hair. I figured it was time to change it up again."

"Still…" She muttered.

"It's good to see you too Rowena." I finally said. "Now, if you guys will give me a few minutes, I'm going to go call back this guy." I waggled the phone as I started to get up. The second I was fully vertical, though, a wave of nausea hit me and I had to put a hand on the bed to steady myself.

"You took a lot out of yourself with what you did, dearest." Rowena said, helping me get fully upright. "That wasn't any small magic either. That was an extreme amount of power that you used, combined with what was already in effect on you." As she said that, I looked down at my own wrist. The burns were still there, but they were meaningless now. Just a reminder of what had happened. "You stopped any chance of not only Gideon from ever coming back to life."

"I had to do something. I couldn't just let them kill Sam."

"Yes, great job." Crowley commented dryly. "And then afterwards you jumped out a window, which set off the spell that they used to try and keep you captive in the house, as well as also broke your ankle. Afterwards you rolled in to the car, earned yourself a concussion, and managed to knock yourself out from an overreach of your powers without a viable backup plan."

"I had a backup plan!" I argued.

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

"And that was what, calling me on what I assume was an accident?" He asked. "Who were you intending to call? The man that's been trying to get in contact with you?"

"Depends. Are you hurt by that?"

"No." He rolled his eyes at that, crossing his arms.

"Oh Fergus, quit acting like a petulant child." Rowena said, letting me go. "I'll make you some tea." She told me, smiling kindly. "And then afterwards I've got a few questions to ask you about how life has been, since apparently my own son won't tell me what's going on." She cast Crowley a small glare before walking towards the small kitchen. I stood across from Crowley, thinking for a few minutes.

"Thank you for helping me." I muttered. "And for, you know, being there for me and shit."

"Shut up." He said again. He seemed… Withdrawn, almost. Something in general was different about him.

"Are you OK?" I asked.

"Are you?"

Neither of us answered. Neither of us was quite OK. "What happened to you since I left?"

"Things have changed." He said. "Around here."

"What happened?"

"I can't quite tell you." He explained. "Not yet."

"Why?"

"Because it's still difficult." It wasn't an explanation, just him putting it off. I raised an eyebrow at that. "I've kept your secrets." He reminded me. "Let me keep my own now."

"Alright." I conceded. "But if you get yourself killed I'm totally giving you shit for it in the afterlife."

"I'm the King of Hell." He reminded me. "I can't be killed." At that one, I actually cracked a smile. Believe it or not, I'd missed hanging out with Crowley.

There's gotta be some seriously messed up shit going on in my head for me to say that.

"So what's the plan?" I asked.

"I believe mother has questions for you." He said. "And that you have a phone call to return." I nodded, taking a few slow steps out the door.

"Any chance you're up for a game of chess while I explain things?" I asked.

"You know you'll lose."

"Bring it on." I challenged, smiling at Rowena as I walked through the small kitchen. "I need to return this call first. Once I walk back in, I'll tell you everything."

"Sounds great, dearie!" She said. "Don't be too long! Wouldn't want your tea getting cold!"

I took a second to change clothes (I was SO thankful that I kept clothes here) and dry my hair before walking out. The second my body was outside the door, Karma bounded up to me energetically, nearly tackling me as she did. "Hey, hey, down girl! It's ok!" I said, laughing a little as I scratched behind your ear. "You're a good girl, aren't you?" I crooned, smiling at the hellhound. "What a good girl, getting help for me. You deserve extra treats later." I smiled, looking around for the nearest big stick. I hadn't actually ever finished my original plan for Karma, the notes and basic test startup was still inside. I found a sizeable limb that had fallen, and threw it as hard as I could, adding a small gust of wind to carry it far away. "Go fetch!" I shouted. Karma barked once before bounding after it.

I watched her for a moment, fully aware of how strange and abhorrent this would have all seemed to me not even two years ago and considering a re-evaluation of my life as I hit the number to dial Ketch. He answered before the first ring was up. "Where in the BLOODY HELL have you been?!" He asked. I took a second to look at the date on my phone. I was supposed to have checked in with him two days ago. I had still been at the house the day before that. "The Loughlin witches are dead! Their house was burned to the ground, and we thought you had died with them! Your motorcycle was found burned and destroyed there!"

"My bike got trashed?" I asked. I hadn't known about that part.

"YES!" He shouted. "WHAT HAPPENED?!"

"I overreached." I said. "Long story short, Hunters came through, Loughlin witches are in fact dead, and I got a digital copy of the book on my phone. I'll be sending you the pictures in just a minute."

"And you? How did you make it out?"

"I still have a few friends in the states." I answered. "If it makes you feeling any better, I was trying to call you for an extraction."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I've been taking the past few days to kinda patch myself up and make sure I was alright."

"Good. And the book?"

"Only a digital copy." I said. Karma ran back up with the stick, dropping it with a loud thud at my feet. "I wasn't able to get the physical one itself, and I don't know what happened to it." I threw the stick again, pushing a little to make it go even farther out, and Karma bounded right back after it.

"It'll have to do. I want a full debriefing as to what happened next week, in person." He ordered. "I'll send you the details tomorrow."

"I can meet up with you sooner than that." I offered.

"No. I have other business I'm currently attending to." He said. "Find new leads. Report back with any new information. And for Christ's sake, call Thomason. He's been borderline insubordinate, demanding a flight to the States to find you."

"He'll be my next call." I assured Ketch. "How did he learn what happened?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea." Ketch replied. "And Kylie?"

"Yeah?"

"Watch yourself. You're a valuable operative. I know I speak for not only myself, but for the Men of Letters as a whole, when I say that it'd be a shame to lose you."

"Thanks." I said, furrowing my brows as I ended the call. Why in the hell were people being nicer all of the sudden? Crowley, Ketch, Rowena… Nix Rowena, she had a decent explanation. She sucked up to the most powerful person in the room. But still, it was weird. I almost kind of wanted to tell people to stop.

"You know, if they want to be nice, I should just let them be nice." I decided. "If all else fails, I'm dreaming and everything is actually normal." I laughed a little at that as I dialed T.J.'s number.

"GODDAMMIT KYLIE!" Another screeching shout for a greeting. "WHAT IN THE HELL?!"

"Is this going to be how you greet me every time now?" I asked, raising an eyebrow with my smirk. "With shouting?"

"I'm on the corner of where your apartment was." He said. "Come here, right now, so I can… Bloody hell, I don't know! Hug you or beat the living shit out of you or something!"

"I can't do that right now." I said. "Kind of not a big fan on getting the shit beat out of me, you know?"

"BULLSHIT!"

"Look, I can't. I've got… Prior commitments as of right now." I said. "But I promise, the second I can drop by to see you I will."

"You bet your ass you're going to." He demanded.

"How are you doing?" I asked. Karma proudly ran back up with the stick, once again dropping it at my feet. I scratched behind her ear, relaxing a little. "I heard your assignment with the grimoire went well."

"Shut up about me."

"OK. What do you want to say, then?"

"Just… Just…" He sighed. "Look, just be careful, OK?"

"When am I ever?"

"I'm serious." He sounded… nervous, for a moment.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, concerned for him. Maybe I should drop by now. Rowena and Crowley would understand. At the change in my tone, Karma sat up, prepared and waiting.

"I'm fine." He said, his words clipped. I didn't say a word, just waited for him to keep going. "I promise, I'm fine. I was just… worried about you. You got me here, and I would hate to have you die on me in another country." I smiled, determined to put him at ease.

"How's this. If I'm not allowed to die in America, you're not allowed to die in Europe. We'll both meet up in Australia or something instead." I laughed a little, trying to get him to laugh with me. "How's that sound?" He didn't laugh, though. It was just tense silence on his end.

"Just… Promise me you'll be careful." He requested. "And that you'll call or come right here if something happens."

"I promise." I assured him. "T.J., relax. We're Men of Letters. We're Hunters. This is the life for us. It's nothing new."

"Just be careful." He repeated, hanging up before I could ask any more questions. I looked from my phone to Karma, and resumed scratching her behind her ear.

"Maybe he's got some stuff going on." I murmured, my brow still furrowed as I thought about it. "We'll drop by tomorrow, how's that? You wanna see T.J. again?" I asked, and the second Karma heard T.J.'s name she barked happily. "Yeah. We'll go see T.J. and he'll throw your stick again." I told her, fighting to keep concern out of my voice for my friend. T.J. usually wasn't like that. He talked through things, gave detailed explanations. Vagueness and angrily hanging up wasn't his style. "Yeah, we'll see him tomorrow." I repeated, trying to clear the worry from my mind. It was nothing. It had to be nothing.

I looked back at the cabin, taking a breath before I moved from Karma to head back inside. This was going to take some time to explain.


	16. The Things He Didn't Say (3rd POV)

There were many things Castiel never got the chance to tell Kylie. They ate away at him as he sat up in the night. He didn't even try and sleep anymore, not since he'd seen her, or at least thought he had. If he slept, all he saw was her, standing there, sending him away as if nothing was wrong; as if she'd been there the whole time, except in his dreams Lucifer was always right behind her, looking like Castiel again, smirking as he waved goodbye with an angel blade.

So Castiel didn't sleep, and instead was plagued by the things he wished he'd told her; the things he'd kept from her from one reason or another, without any clear understanding as to why.

He wished he'd told her that he wanted to see her, when they first met. Every day afterwards, he wanted to see her again, but things were changing. Leviathans were working to control him. He wasn't quite certain if he was himself anymore. So he didn't, because she believed in him, and he wasn't about to be a God that she couldn't believe in.

Then he was Ezekiel. He was married. He didn't remember Kylie until after he smote the demons, and it all came rushing back to him. Her face, clear as day, looking up on him with fear and hope and happiness and… not awe, but a sense of acceptance. He was there. He was real. She could… deal with him, that's how she would put it. She could come to terms with his existence being substantiated by his physical presence. He wanted to go to her, he planned to the second he had healed Sam. But the damage done… It was his penance. He wouldn't go back until he had served it, and purified himself from his wrongful actions. When he was woken back up, and the Word of God had been released from it's earthen prison… he still didn't go.

He had Meg. He had to protect Meg. He felt as though it would be wrong to leave her when she had been protecting him the whole time. But at the same time, he felt bad, because he could still hear Kylie's prayers. He could hear her, hear her begging for help some days, and that was when he gave in. He couldn't help it. He had to give in.

They were coming for her in the dark of night. She was asleep. She wasn't going to survive. He wanted to wake her up, to shout or say something or fight them, but he couldn't. He didn't do that anymore. Fighting was bad. Fighting was what got him in to that situation in the first place. And when he looked at himself… He wasn't the person she had met. He was changed. He was different. He didn't know if she would want to see him.

So he tripped the trap she had set up, and caused the salt to go flying in to the demons. It was a well made trap, he was impressed with how she had adapted, but it had been placed in the wrong spot. Demons had easily avoided it.

She woke up when they screamed, and ran. Castiel was glad she got away. He didn't want her to die. She was good. She was trying.

He left after that. He didn't know what else to do. He couldn't go talk to her, not like how he was. And there were still Leviathans to contend with. He couldn't just abandon Sam and Dean and Meg for this girl, much less drag her in to it.

So he left, intending to go find her after his mind was put back in order. That was always the intent. Once his mind was back how it was, and he was the angel she had met originally, he would return to help her. That was always what he told himself.

When Crowley had her, Castiel couldn't take it anymore. He could feel her pain, feel her crying out to him in her subconscious, still believing somewhere that he would come back, that he would do one more good thing. That was what made Castiel dig the bullet out of his body. That was what gave him strength to use his last vestiges of power to save the both of them. She had still believed in him. She hadn't ever stopped believing in him. If Castiel had left her there, she would've died, and it would've been his fault. He couldn't bear that burden, not anymore. So many things of late had been his fault. He had to do one thing right.

She had been the first thing he felt as though he'd done right in a long time. He hadn't told her any of this because he felt as though she would look at him strangely and differently.

He never told her about seeing her alive again, after the angels fell. Seeing her in the Bunker, alive in flesh and blood and there, right there in the room with him. He forgot everything he had just said, everything he had been discussing with the Winchesters, because she was there. She was standing right in front of him, saying things, but he almost didn't hear her for a minute because…

She was alive.

She was just alive, and he couldn't believe it.

Then he realized she was unhappy. She asked who April was, the name sounding like bile in her throat, and he said what may have been the most inane response to her question. He said her name, said "Kylie," because the fact that she was there still hadn't managed to cement itself in Castiel's brain just yet. Dean explained for him what had happened, Castiel couldn't. All he could do was say her name again, followed by an extremely short-lived attempt at saying anything else other than her name. She interrupted him, though, the hurt shining through like a beacon in the dark. She said she wanted to leave. Sam tried to stop her, but she was adamant. I couldn't say another word. I didn't know what to say.

She had been the one thing that he wanted to do right, the one thing he had finally done correctly, and in the blink of an eye he had managed to falter yet again. Much later on, he told her why he had turned to April – he had ran from what he had thought was a failure. He had to believe that he could do something correct again, something that wasn't a mistake. And he had been wrong. All he had done was make a bigger mistake, one that hurt him more than not seeing her for so long had. It hurt more because this time, he could see it. He couldn't just avoid her, nor did he want to, so he had see it in her face every day for a long time. The hurt. The betrayal. The unwillingness to trust him just yet, because he had hurt her.

That was when he learned that he would do anything to try and make things right again. Not because of the betrayal and pain on her face, though. For a different reason.

No matter how hard he looked, and no matter how enraged she seemed with him, there was one expression that never seemed to leave her face. She still believed in him. She still had hope that he would help her, that he would do something and be a hero. He didn't know if he was imagining things or if she was even aware of it, but he chose to believe that the latter was true. The latter was what spurred him on to keep trying, because she still believed in him, and he was going to make himself worthy of her faith and belief in him and eventually, her trust and happiness as well.

He never told her because he didn't want to be wrong, and then things were better between them for a while so he saw no point. After that, he just believed that she was better without him, that she didn't want him around, so he left.

He never told her that he fell in love with her smile before he realized it was simply being in love with her. It was always just physical things about her, or habits and actions that he began to associate the word love with. He loved it when she smiled. He loved it when he watched her think, planning out a next move for the pair of them. He loved it when she had a deck of cards in her hands, absent-mindedly fiddling with the pieces of plastic-coated cardboard and making them disappear in a way that even Castiel couldn't see, or if there was a box nearby flicking them in to the material so that they stuck out like darts. He loved it when she heard a song she liked and started humming to it or singing it quietly, even when it wasn't playing around them, because she could hear the music in her head and it made her feel joy.

He loved it when she was happy or elated or excited or feeling any sort of positive emotion.

He loved it when she was her own person, because there wasn't any good way to describe her personality other than her being her.

He just… he loved her. He loved all the small pieces and individual mannerisms and aspects that just made up her, and he loved her. He had fallen from Heaven, fallen from grace, and fallen for one of his father's creations. He had fallen in every possible sense of the word, and this time he didn't care as much. She was there.

He didn't want to be the same person she had first met, then. Not any more after that either. He had been pretending to be a God, pretending to be above it all. Now, he just wanted to be someone she would like, someone she would hopefully love as well. He wanted to be with her.

He never told her that because he didn't want her to find it silly or childish, and because he also wasn't completely certain how he would express his process of falling in love with her without becoming nervous and unsure and stopping himself before he could fully explain it and tell her everything.

He couldn't help but wish now that he'd told her these things, told her so many more. He wished that he'd told her that when she was gone, he worked like a man possessed until he found her again. He wished he'd told her that the words Cordziz Hoath never sounded so kind and beautiful, and that they'd lost all negative connotations to him the day he met her. He wished he'd told her that he was certain his heart had almost stopped when he saw what he had done to her body, saw the havoc that his hands had caused. He wished he'd told her that his heart almost stopped again when she said yes, purely out of an overwhelming sense of emotion and gratitude and a wish to find his father again solely so he could thank him, thank God, for creating this singular human that had just agreed to marry him.

He wished he could've told her he loved her one last time before she disappeared, before Lucifer cast her aside like a piece of garbage. That was the one that hurt the most, because there was no possible reason as to why he hadn't, just a reason as to why he couldn't. She was right in front of him, and he was powerless to do anything. When she had needed him the most, when he could feel her soul crying out to him the loudest, he had done nothing. He couldn't do anything, and there was only himself to blame. He couldn't put all of the fault on Lucifer, not anymore. Now that he was gone, Castiel had to wake up and accept that it was his fault.

There were many things that Castiel never told Kylie, for various reasons. There were many things that he wanted to tell her, that he wished he had told her, and they were all excuses so that he could just see her one last time.

And he had seen her, he was almost certain of it. She had been right in front of him, and she had sent him away before he could tell her any of those things.

Castiel gripped his necklace tightly, standing in front of the makeshift grave for her one last time. It was raining, but he didn't care. This was too important for him to care about the weather. "I believe you're alive." He said. "I'm certain you have to be. I'll find you." It was a promise, one he would keep no matter the consequences. Those didn't matter as much to him more now. He didn't have much else to lose, but now he had so much he could gain. "I promise."

When he found her, this would be one of the first things he would tell her out of the many that he hadn't before. He would tell her that he never stopped being in love with her, that not a day went by that he didn't miss her. He would tell her everything.

"I'll find you." He promised.


	17. I'm Coming Out Of My Cage

I sat down across from Crowley, with the chess board already set up in the middle and Rowena already off to the side. Nobody spoke for a bit. Crowley and I were examining the board. I was white, he was black. I think Rowena was just waiting for one of us to speak first.

She couldn't take it, though, and finally spoke up. "So, Kylie," she said, her voice just a little tense. "Where have you been?" I moved my leftward night two spaces forwards and one right.

"Here, mostly." I said, watching Crowley.

"Here as in this cabin or here as in America?"

"Both."

"And you took up witchcraft as a hobby?" Crowley moved one of his pawns forwards two spaces. Conservative move. He was going to try and draw the game out.

"Lucifer tried to kill me." I explained. "He… He kind of threw me out in the cold when I wouldn't do what he wanted. The literal Arctic cold. I had to adapt or, well… die."

"And so, during everything with God and Amara you were, what, just hiding out?" She asked. "Running from Lucifer?"

"No." I moved my other knight to mirror the first. "Wait, hold on. This is going to make this whole conversation more than a little easier." I put my hand on her head, focusing on the memory spell I'd cast the first time. I knew a few new tricks, now. I could easily remove the enchantment I'd cast on her earlier now.

"What are you doing?!" Rowena asked, trying to move away. I was faster, though.

 _"Commemini." Remember._

I removed my hand, and she sat in absolute shock and silence as the short wave of memories I'd blocked from her came crashing through her mind. "Are you certain that was the wisest idea?" Crowley asked, moving another pawn forwards one place.

"At this point, I've given up." I said. "Everyone has seen me. What point is there to keep Rowena in the dark now?"

"You erased my BLOODY MEMORY?!" She shouted, turning to me in anger.

"Technically I just altered it to forget me in particular."

"And YOU!" She shouted at Crowley, not quite done just yet. "YOU LET HER?! YOU KNEW THIS WHOLE TIME AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?"

"Mother, please." He said. "You wanted to know the truth, here it is." Rowena looked from me to her son, fuming quietly before settling back down, a new question overtaking her.

"How did you make it that specific, and afterwards remove it so easily?" She asked. "Is it a part of the," she took a moment, trying to get something straight inside her head. "Angelic grace inside of you? You have angelic grace within you?"

"No, yes, and we'll come back to the angel grace part later." I said, moving one of my rooks all the way out to the edge of the board. Then I took a deep breath. I needed people, now. I couldn't run from them forever. I needed help, and I needed to face my fears.

I told them both everything else that's happened, only omitting what I had to under Men of Letters protocol and what I felt I couldn't quite trust Rowena with. I explained about college, explained leaving, and talked about why I'd come back.

"So, you work for the Men of Letters now?" Crowley asked. At this point, he had me down one rook, five pawns, a knight, and was chasing my queen. Meanwhile, I had both of his rooks, three pawns, and a bishop.

"Yeah. It's kind of nice." I admitted, examining the board closely. I didn't want to lose my queen, but at the same time I didn't really want to end the game either. "I've got backup, now. I've got a friend that I hunted with back in London. I have access to the best collection of information in the world." I smiled a little, deciding to move one of my pawns to a defensive position for the queen. "I even had a job, a real job outside of this life, but also alongside it. I finally just… I don't feel as though I'm as much of an outcast for this, now. All I heard from Sam and Dean was that… That I was a traitor, that I was such an awful person for this." It felt good to finally say it all out loud. It felt good to finally acknowledge all that had happened, and that I was moving past it. "I have support. I have help. I have, just… opportunities. Possibilities. I have a future with what I do."

"That's…" Rowena thought for a moment. "It sounds as though you're really coming to terms with everything, and making life work for you. I can understand, witch to witch," she put a hand on my arm. "The struggles of being accepted for who you are and what you chose, and I'm glad that you have found a way to be content with it." She sounded almost a little wistful as she spoke.

"Thanks." I said, happy for a moment. I'd figured it out, for the most part. I'd figured out a way to be who I was in an environment where I didn't have to be ashamed of it, but instead could make it useful and wanted. Crowley moved one of his leftover pawns as well, a placeholder move to see what I would do.

"So if everything was so great for you in London," Rowena asked. "Why come back here to America?" That was one of the parts I'd omitted, my current assignment. Crowley moved to take one of my pawns, waiting as well for me to answer.

"Work." Definitely the truth, definitely what I was doing. Just…. Extremely vague. "I'm here to learn and get better."

"They don't have any witch connections in London?" I shook my head, moving my queen to a better defensive spot.

"The focus of the Men of Letters there originally was to create a safer area where they would be at a greatly reduced risk of coming in to conflict with witches, vampires, werewolves, ghouls, ghosts, etcetera." I explained. "I'm there because I kind of circumnavigated every warding or protection that they had set up against witches. Think of me like a very, very well-treated spot inspector." I thought. "I helped them get better ideas for what to do, and made it so that I could still get around in the process."

"Impressive!" Rowena exclaimed. "I knew you had talent! I could tell the moment I saw you, and look! I'm never wrong about these things, you know."

"Yes, mother, we get it." Crowley muttered, rolling his eyes before turning back to me. "So what do you plan on doing now?" He moved his other bishop off to the side of the board, the piece gliding easily across the black squares.

"I'll go back to work, I guess." I said. "Training. Avoiding Sam and Dean and Castiel. Bringing back information. Maybe at some point I'll settle down with a job again with it. Just normal life for me, I guess."

"Normal life? In witchcraft?" Rowena laughed. "Sweetheart, you're the farthest thing from normal now." I turned, looking over at her.

"And I'm certain you have a different choice in mind, don't you?" I asked.

"Well, I'd hate to impose my own ideas," she said. "But you could always lead your own witch coven."

"You already told me this story." I reminded her. "When you first trained me. The Mega-Coven. Girls only, no boys allowed."

"It's just a thought." She muttered, giving a little harrumph with it. I turned back to Crowley, moving my queen to take his bishop in another move.

 **Why did you give her back her memories?** Crowley's voice, in my head, quiet and curious.

 **She was here. She already saw me. It was the most convenient option.** Both of us watched the board, figuring out what sort of endgame we wanted. **Speaking of which, why was she here?**

 **Healing you was not a feat I would have managed on my own.** He moved a pawn another step closer. **I wanted to ensure that the damage to you was not permanent.**

 **Do you think she'll tell anyone I'm still alive?** I snagged his bishop, smiling just a little. I had a plan in mind. I could take his king now in maybe three moves.

 **Doubtful.** He waited for a while, examining his options. **You intend on leaving her with the knowledge that you're alive?**

 **She could be useful.**

 **She could be a pain in the ass.**

 **That's also true.** He moved his queen down closer to my side of the board, but I couldn't see it being in any sort of position to take a piece. However, it was keeping my king trapped to three rows of movement, which wasn't something I liked. I decided to abandon my three moves plan, watching to see what he was doing.

 **I think I'm just done hiding.** I finally admitted. **Done wearing disguises. Done pretending that who I am is shameful. I want to be me, as a person, without feeling the need to be anyone else.**

 **Then what about seeing Castiel?**

I didn't answer him at first, just kept staring at the board as though it may give me answers. Finally, though, I had to say something. **He's better off without me.**

 **Have you seen him as of late?**

 **Yes, actually, I have.** I fought off the memory of Billie dying, but it still surfaced, and I knew Crowley saw it too. **He has the Winchesters.** It came out like a bitter sentence in my mind. I moved one of my rooks so that it could defend the king if necessary, but kept my queen closer to his side of the board. **If I was there, things would be worse.**

 **Things are bad without you.**

 **I can't go.**

 **Why not?**

 **Because there's another reason why I have Rowena remembering who I am.**

"Are you two just going to sit in silence forever?" Rowena finally interrupted. She couldn't take it anymore, I guess.

"We're engaging in a riveting game of chess." Crowley stated. "It requires patience. I don't believe that is one of your virtues."

"A demon, talking about virtues." I laughed a little. "What a world."

"So what, I'm supposed to sit here and watch and wait?" She asked. "Kylie, you had me remember for a reason, I can feel it. What is it you want?"

"I need to know a spell." I said, watching as Crowley moved the same pawn forwards.

"I thought you didn't need me."

"This one requires a second person."

"Don't you usually kill your seconds, mother?" Crowley commented dryly.

"What do you need, dearie?" Rowena asked, ignoring her son.

"I need to know how to look at a soul." I moved my knight randomly, hoping it would throw Crowley off guard. He just moved a different pawn forwards.

"Why exactly would you need to do that?" Crowley asked. Rowena looked at me expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"It's important." I said. "We think that there may be a problem with it emerging in the UK." **I'll tell you later.**

"Well, what do you need?"

"I need to know how to see whether or not a part of a person's soul is deteriorating." I answered. "And how to determine the cause."

"That's a very delicate thing to look at, a soul." Crowley pointed out.

"I know. That's why I'm asking for help." I said, taking the pawn he had just moved with my knight.

"It's also not something that witches do." Rowena added. "Removing a soul and putting one back, that's something we could do, albeit with extreme caution. But even then that would take a witch with almost a century of practice and failures to get such a process right. However, just looking at one in general without removing it and putting it back in…" She shook her head. "Not to mention trying to determine a rate at which it's fading away and what may be causing it… That's not something I could do, nor do I know any witch that could."

"Demons look at souls." Crowley pointed out, moving the original pawn forwards. "We take them, anyways, and we have to know whether or not one is actually there. Important for demon deals. And we can technically put one back in a body."

"Can you look at the rate of deterioration and determine a cause?"

"That would require a deal." He said. "One soul to learn about another. And it would be extremely painful for the person in question getting their soul looked at." He leaned forwards, examining me now instead of his chess board. "Whose soul are you wanting to look at?"

"I can't tell you." **Mine**. Crowley stayed as he was for a moment, every part of him completely still. Rowena didn't notice, though. She thought for a moment.

"You would need an angel if you didn't want to make a deal." She finally said. "Angels work with souls as well. They can physically touch one with the most skill, sometimes to siphon power or to find any imperfections."

 **What did you do?** Crowley finally asked. **What did you do to damage your soul?**

"No." I shook my head, avoiding answering Crowley's question. "I can't get an angel. They'll tell Castiel."

 **What did you DO?**

"Then you either make multiple deals with demons, or you wait a century," She said. "And risk killing thousands in the process of practice and learning."

 **WHAT DID YOU DO?**

"Fine." I muttered. **I'll tell you without Rowena.** I focused on my king for a moment, and knocked it over. "I concede." I smiled, offering Rowena a small nod. "There are other matters that we need to discuss now. It's been great seeing you, Rowena." I meant it, mostly. It hadn't been bad, and she had offered helpful insight. "I guess it goes without saying that if you tell anyone I'm alive, I'll find you."

"And what, you'll kill me?" She asked.

"No, I'll make you forget again." I said. "You're aware of the kind of power I have. I could alter your memories, like how the Loughlin's could." That scared her, I could see. Not just that I could, but that I really would. I mean exactly what I said in a factual manner.

"Of course." She said, offering a faux-laugh with it. "Why would I think any different?" She got up, looking around for a moment. "I think I ought to see myself out, then. I have nothing else to say to my lying son for now."

"Have a nice walk." Crowley encouraged, sarcasm dripping from his voice. I rolled my eyes, standing up next to her.

"How's Reno sound?" I asked her. Before she could answer, I put a hand on her shoulder, and she was gone. Crowley stared at me, putting my king back up.

"Keep playing." He ordered. "We have more things to discuss."


	18. And I've Been Doing Just Fine

"You know how much I hate anyone in general bossing me around, right?" I asked, sitting down once more. "Do you think she'll like Reno, by the way? I took a bit of a shot in the dark, figured she'd be able to prosper there."

"What did you do to your soul?"

"Nothing intentional." I started off, raising my hands. "No idiotic deals with other demons, if that's what has your feathers ruffled. It's a by-product."

"Of what, exactly?"

"Of Cas." I said. "That's why I can't see him. It's the grace inside of me." I looked down at my own hands for just a second. "It's a part of me, it's intertwined with my own magic. And every time I use it…" I shook my head. "There's a chance that it's removing a part of my soul each time."

"How did you come to this conclusion?"

"I met a woman that used it. She told me what it did to her each time." I shook my head. "I can't go to him and have him see what it's done. I can't." I pursed my lips for a second. "Not to mention what Dean and Sam's reactions would be. He's chosen their side, whole-heartedly. He'd do anything for them, no matter the consequences. I…"

"You're still hiding." Crowley summed up. "You may traipse around believing that you're not, but you still are. You still can't face them."

"Could you, if you were in my place?"

"I've done the dead and back story before." He reminded me. "Your former fiancé actually helped me with it."

"Crowley," I sighed. "I just… I can't see him. I can't see any of them. They literally pulled guns on me when they saw me, before I disappeared. And that was them seeing me as… Well… Me. How can I see them again?"

"How are you sitting across from me?" He asked in turn. "I killed your father. Your brothers. I hunted you for years, trying to kill you. I tortured you and actually DID kill you. And yet here you are, sitting in front of me, CONFIDING in me," he motioned to the board. "Over a game of chess."

"I…" I didn't have a good answer. I didn't even understand it myself, sometimes. We had both changed. He was no longer a full villain. I was no longer a full innocent. Lines had been drawn and crossed and blurred at this point, blurred to where they no longer quite existed at this point, but instead coated the field in grey.

Crowley leaned back in his chair, a slightly satisfied smirk resting on his face. "Have no good response." He said. "You have no good reason to not go back, other than the fact that you're afraid of what could happen. It's the same reason that you haven't summoned another angel to look at your soul, and the same reason you ran for London. You're afraid of opening Schrodinger's box, and seeing the truth. You're still hiding."

"I'm getting better." I argued. "I'm doing better. No disguises."

"Still using a fake name? Perhaps Diana, still?" I looked at him in surprise. "I keep an ear out for your aliases, in case something comes up. You got a job under it while with the Loughlin triplets, working in finances."

"Why do you still care and keep track of me?"

"You are my creation. My actions caused you to be who you are now." He stated it factually. "It would look bad if I lost track of such a valuable investment."

"And now you want to, what, push the investment back in to a relationship?"

"God, no." He shook his head. "That would be unhealthy for both of you, to act as though nothing had changed. That's why I acknowledge the shift in paradigm between us. We've gone from you hating me and me just wanting you dead on principal, to casual conversation."

"So, what?" I asked. "Just show up. 'Hi Cas, you remember how you thought your fiancée was dead? She's been alive this whole time, made you forget, and has been actively avoiding you up until this point out of fear and shame. Wanna go grab some hot tea and catch up?'" I raised an eyebrow at Crowley. "How do you think that conversation is going to go? I'll get shot. I'll get stabbed. I'll get rejected."

"Why bring in shame?" Crowley asked. "I never said you were ashamed."

Fuck.

"Just a word." I waved a hand at it. "Bad adjective use."

"Why shame?" Crowley asked again. I looked over at the window.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you, but I like the new curtains." I complimented. "Nice color. Not too overbearing. Next time you'll have to let me replace them."

"Kylie," Crowley's voice wasn't demanding, it was calm. "Why?"

"Because I ran." I admitted. "Because I got scared and freaked out and he… He said he wanted to try and make things work and I was terrified that I would fail that too." I hadn't ever said those words out loud before. "They were my family, and I thought I had just destroyed it. I thought I had just thrown the biggest wrench in everything I had felt so fortunate to have for so long. I couldn't do it, I couldn't live with Sam's hatred and Dean's death and Cas just being him and being so kind and supportive…" I rested my forehead in my hand, resisting the urge to shake it once more. "And it would either turn in to Sam's bitter hatred or it would stay that way, stay unchanged when everything else was so different around me and I felt different and I couldn't do it, Crowley. I couldn't do any of it." I took a deep breath, steadying myself from my rambling. "I felt ashamed because I felt as though I'd failed, and then made a rash decision afterwards in a fit of fear and hurt that only made me hate what I'd become more."

"And now you're finally admitting it to yourself." He said, a note of approval in his voice. "You're finally coming to terms."

"I don't know what I'm doing." I said. "I'm trying to be happy with who I am, but it still feels as though something is wrong. No matter what I do, I can't go back from what I've done. I can't change it and fix things again. I just… I don't know how to fix things, and that terrifies me more than anything else. More than the possibility of my soul being in pieces now. More than the thought of actually being dead. More than anything."

"So what if it's all true?" Crowley asked. "What if your soul is in pieces now because of Castiel's grace? Is that going to change anything?"

"It might change whether or not I see him." I muttered, finally raising my head from my hand. "It's his grace. He might feel responsible."

"Let me tell you how I know he feels." Crowley stated, leaning forwards a little bit. "He came looking for me, after you disappeared and Sam and Dean were taken." I didn't know this. I'd probably already been overseas by then. "He came looking because he wanted to find you. He's still looking for you. It almost tore him to pieces trying to pick up the mess that was left behind after you disappeared." I stared at him in shock. "Quite frankly, I think the only reason he hasn't gone to London yet himself is because the bloody moron doesn't understand how airfare works." I offered a small smile at that, remembering a different conversation, when we talked about going somewhere far away together. "But he's looking for you. He's still looking for you, and hasn't stopped. It's surprising he hasn't already found you." Crowley shook his head. "Fate does tend to put you near his path, it's astounding that the two of you didn't meet sooner than you did."

"I… I don't even know where he is." I finally said. "Much less whether he wants to see me or not."

"He does. He wouldn't be looking for you if he didn't."

"If he knew, would he?"

"That's a risk you're going to have to take." Crowley said. "Same with learning as to the full extent of what the angel grace is doing to you."

"What if I don't want to know?" I asked. "What if I don't want to open that box?"

"Then you'll never know." Crowley said. "And you'll have to live knowing that you let your fear and shame get the better of you." He stared at the board. Neither of us had really touched it for the rest of the game. "It's your choice." He said, standing to straighten his tie. "I have to go. I have my own business to attend to. Think about what I've said." He paused. "Don't die." He said the last words as almost an afterthought before disappearing.


	19. Project V

I spent another day at the cabin finishing what I'd started for Karma, a practice dummy that she could play with as though it was a toy. It made her happy, and for a bit gave me something to focus on. Something to help me figure out where my headspace was.

Did I go? Did I want to find him? Did I want to open that box? And what would be there afterwards? These were questions that I just… I didn't know what answers I wanted, much less whether or not I actually wanted answers at all.

I was saved from this by Mick calling. "Kylie! How has your assignment been?"

"It's been well. I sent Ketch a copy of a grimoire to be forwarded back to London."

"I saw that. Excellent work, save for the delayed check-in." I grimaced a little.

"Sorry, sir."

"Don't be! It was still excellent work nonetheless." He complimented. "And speaking of it, what are you currently working on now?"

"I'm currently trying to track down new leads." I explained. "I'm looking for older sources and was about to use a tracking spell to kinda ping for them."

"Good, good, good plan." He commented. "How attached to it are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I require assistance in some work." He explained. "Putting up the same tracking and… 'pinging' sigils that you put up in London."

"What for?"

"Vampires."

"Why vampires?" I took a glance outside. Almost out of pure coincidence, Karma's dummy toy had just morphed its signature in to that of a vampire. I watched it sprint off, Karma hot on its heels.

"Call it a trial run." He said. "We've come to the conclusion that the best way to recruit more Hunters is by a display of what we can do."

"So what, you want to show them you can put tracking chips on vamps?" I asked.

"No, we're going much bigger than that." He said. "We're going to work to exterminate all vampires within the continental United States."

I almost dropped the phone when I heard that. "All vampires?" I asked.

"Yes, all of them, just as we've done for the most part in London." He said. "We believe that if we can do that and take out the vampire population in America, we can get other American Hunters more in tune with our operation and more open to cooperation and future recruitment."

"Wow." I muttered. "That's… that's a huge step you're wanting to take."

"Yes. We also want your help and consultation on how best to go about Project V in America."

"Project V?"

"For Vampire." He laughed. "Come on, Kylie, I know you're quicker than that. I'll send you a text with the coordinates for a temporary base we've set up. It'll be easier for you to be here in person so that we can collaborate better."

"What about Mary?" I asked. "Are you bringing her in for this?"

"Yes, but currently she's out on assignment with Ketch."

"Ketch takes partners?" I raised an eyebrow at that. I'd always seen him on his own, lone wolf style. It was strange to even hear about him working with another person.

"Mary's… situation," Mick explained, picking each word carefully. "Puts her in an area where Ketch feels the need to monitor her progress more closely to ensure that she is reaching her full potential."

"He doesn't trust her." I summed up.

"He sees extreme value in her, as he did in you." Mick corrected. "Remember he did keep extended awareness of your progress while you were with us in London."

"Fair enough." I conceded. "Is he aware of my assignment change?" Ketch was in charge of handing me assignments, after all.

"Yes. He actually recommended you for it."

"Oh?" I furrowed my brows. "When was that?"

"We've been working at the ideas and possibilities of Project V for the past few weeks now," he said. "But Ketch wanted to see what information you could gather through witchcraft and other Hunters before you were brought in for this assignment, to see as to whether or not you would find any more useful information."

"Alright." I thought for a moment. "I'll leave immediately, then."

"Excellent. Standard security protocols will be in place, of course." I knew what he meant on that. "And I hear that you've taken to riding a motorcycle around instead of just… appearing everywhere?"

"It helps keep appearances when need be." I said. "Besides, I wouldn't want my legs getting flabby." Mick laughed at that.

"You do have a splendid sense of humor." He commented. "However it is good that you have done this. The wardings we have already put up at our new safehouse are intended to keep out anybody or anything that may feel inclined to quite simply appear instead of coming in through the front doors."

"You want me to test them out later?" I asked, putting a hand to the necklace I wore. If they were using my designs, I would be able to get through. If not, I still could probably get through, but it was only a 50/50 chance.

"Possibly, but let's put a pin in that for now." Mick decided. He was confident in them working, then, but not 100%. "We'll have a place for you to store your motorcycle and any belongings you have when you get here. Where have you been staying?" He sounded curious at the last sentence. "We have no records of you checking in to any hotels or renting out any apartments as of late."

"I've got a place I used to crash out before." I said. "A personal safehouse, if you will. I promise, it's safe."

"You know that we would prefer to keep an eye on where you are staying."

"This is the safest place I can be." I stated. "I give you my personal guarantee." Mick paused, then let out a small sigh.

"At least get a hotel room when you are out working on your assignments next time, alright?"

"I can do that." I promised. Oh no, I'm being forced to accept a hotel room at a nice place and not pay for it. What an awful twist of my arm, Mick. I feel so used.

"I'll see you when you arrive, then." Mick sounded happy and assured.

"Sounds great." I hung up, happy for the distraction. I smiled a little. Work was good. Work was extremely good. I packed up my things immediately, rooting around for a bag I hadn't seen in a while. My suitcase had been blown up with the Loughlin house, and in turn a lot of the new clothes I'd gotten through them. I'd been wearing the clothes I'd had here, from Crowley, but…

Nobody knew I'd taken my Canada backpack from the Bunker. It hadn't been in the apartment when Lucifer had thrown me out in to the cold. I'd had it with me at the Bunker. I was doing a book exchange.

I grabbed it and brought it back here before I made everyone forget. It was the only thing I had left for a while that was just… Just mine. I'd stashed it here when I went to college. I didn't think I'd see it again. It was nice, having it.

I opened it up, taking a look at everything I just hadn't used in so long. I still had salt bombs. I still had that notebook I'd started out with. I still had that slingshot, even! I opened up the notebook, going to the contacts page I'd started in the back.

 _I.C.E. Dean Winchester_

 _I.C.E. Sam Winchester_

 _I.C.E. Pray to Castiel_

I stared at it, remembering my hesitancy on writing that, when I was still figuring out everything. I'd kept up with notes, though. I'd added in names and numbers of other Hunters that Dean and Sam had told me about, ones that I'd contacted myself when I'd been running phones. The rest of it was filled with notes and spell ideas from, well…

Before.

It was my whole history in Hunting up until the point of Lucifer, pretty much.

I left it in the backpack, and rooted around the dresser for any last sort of clothes that I may have. A few of Amara's cast-offs still, yeah, and at the bottom of the lowest drawer a simple shirt, flannel, and jeans.

I left them in the bottom of the drawer, finished packing my things together, and left for the coordinates that Mick had texted me. It was a day's ride, non-stop.

It was early in the morning. I could be there in two, taking a stop at a hotel (to make the Old Men happy) along the way for sleep. Hell, they may even want me to get food.

I smiled at that, throwing a ribeye out to Karma before I decided to hit the road. I had clothes. I had my laptop. I had the road. I had…

A distraction from making a choice. I knew exactly what I was doing. I was fully aware of that. Project V was a work distraction.

But it was work, and it was a distraction, and I wasn't going to say no. Hopefully it would just help me sort things out, give myself a good and productive focus until I knew what I wanted to do.

I got there in the two days' time, no problem. Mick greeted me once I had my bike parked, as sharply dressed as ever.

"Miss Dillinger!" He crowed. "Good to see you! How was the journey here?"

"Uneventful." I said, taking off my helmet and shaking out my hair. It looked like a compete rat's nest, but I had a hairbrush and things in my backpack, so I couldn't have cared less. "Were the boys back across the pond happy? I checked in at a hotel. Decent one, too. Got food and everything." I smiled, raising an eyebrow. Mick chuckled as well.

"I know you're still working to assimilate to our beliefs, but tell me, is it really that bad to have a roof over your head at night? A stable, secure roof?" I thought back to all the times I hadn't had just that.

"No." I agreed. "It's not that bad."

"Wonderful. Now, let me show you your new accommodations, and we'll get started on setting up a base plan for Project V."

"Accommodations?"

"Of course." Mick said, smiling.

"What's wrong with where I was living?"

"I would have thought you'd like the upgrade." He commented. "New place to live. Good security, nice open space for your… Dog…" I could see him fighting back a grimace at the mention of Karma. "To roam around. Plus, it'll keep you closer to the action."

"Alright, then." I nodded. "Good thing I brought an overnight bag."

"Speaking of which, we heard your clothing and such was destroyed in the Loughlin fire."

"Yeah. I always keep spare though." I shook the bag to prove my point.

"We'll make sure you are supplied with new as well." He replied.

"Thanks." I smiled a little. It was nice, having these options. A place to stay. New clothes when they were destroyed. Understanding. Acceptance.

"I remember when you were hesitant about working with us," he reminded me, clapping me lightly on the shoulder. "Guarded. Jaded. Quiet. Look at you now," the praise was strange, but nice. "You've come in to your own quite nicely."

"Trying to butter me up for something Mick?" I asked.

"Just ensuring you're aware of how well you've done so far." He answered. "And that you'll continue the good work."

"Sounds easy enough to me."

"In which case, allow me to give you the tour." He said. I followed, listening as he gave me the important information. Security measures, magic merged with technology, where everything was, the whole nine. I even had my own little bunk room. It was bare, with metal walls and a metal closet, but it was a pretty nice room, and one I could put my bag in. I kept my notebook, though. I had a feeling it would be useful.

All in all, I was impressed with what they'd done.

"How long did it take for you to get this all set up?" I asked, once we were in the main room. It had its own B.A.M.T., even, which I couldn't help but have mixed feelings about.

"A month."

"When did you do that?"

"I was quite busy while you were training in London." He said, offering me a sly smile. He was proud of what had been done, no doubt.

"Impressive." I nodded with the word, looking around at everything.

"Thank you." Oh yeah, Mick was definitely pleased with himself. Others walked in shortly afterwards, taking seats at the table. Mick motioned to it as well. "Shall we begin our work?"

I took a seat as well, glancing about at the people at the table. One man, and a woman. The man was obviously not Men of Letters. I took a seat next to the woman, offering her a small smile. She smiled in return.

"Everyone, I believe introductions are in order." Mick stated, moving to stand at the head of the table. "You all know who I am. I've brought you all together here so that we can do something monumental for America, and rid it of vampires completely." He motioned to the woman sitting next to me.

"My name is Serena Colman." She introduced. "I'm the Head of Security and Surveillance for the Men of Letters, and I'm here to monitor our security measures here at the base as well as aid in creating a system to track and monitor vampire nests and their movement habits." Mick nodded to her once before turning to me.

"I'm Kylie Dillinger." I introduced. "I'm a witch working with Men of Letters and I guess I'm kinda here for my mix in Hunting knowledge in America and what I can do with magic."

"You're Kylie?!" The man sitting across from me asked, the one that wasn't Men of Letters. "Shoot, I'm Pierce Moncrieff!" I knew his name. I'd gotten his number through a few different Hunters, and had called him once or twice with different leads for him to check out. Hadn't met him in person though, until now. "We all thought you were dead, Little Winchester!"

"Little Winchester?"

"That's what we called you, me and a few buddies of mine! It's because of your pretty much being adopted by Sam and Dean, you know? Do they know you're alive?"

"No, and I think I'd rather keep it that way for now, if it's all the same to you." I said. He nodded.

"Gotcha. They'd probably put a bullet through your brain if they learned you went witch, right?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "I got no problem with it, so long as you keep your hexes and spells off of me."

"Alright then." I said, making a mental note to ask Mick where he'd pulled Pierce from, as well as if he'd briefed them on a bit of who I was already. Mick nodded again, turning from me to look at Pierce.

"Well, I'm Pierce. I'm a Hunter here in these United States." He said. "I guess I'm here because, well, I'm a Hunter." He said, smiling to himself. "I'm the Hunter King of Baton Rouge." Mick nodded, and all our attention went back to him.

"Now that we're all acquainted, let's get to business." Mick said, moving the conversation forwards as he turned to the large screen behind him. He held up a remote, turning it on to another map of the continental United States. "Our aims are to exterminate every vampire right now in these 48 states." He said, pressing another button. Multiple red dots lit up on the screen, as well with the map. "These are the approximate projections of vampires within them, thanks to Ms. Coleman and the data her agents have gathered." I furrowed my eyebrows, as did Pierce.

"Your numbers are off." I stated.

"There's not nearly as many as you believe in sunnier areas like Texas and New Mexico." Pierce added. "But they're more clumped in bigger cities to make up for it there." I nodded with him.

"And they're a lot more scattered than you guys have them planned out." I added. "As well as varying. Vampires make nests, yeah, but they also like their space. The number of solo vampires is almost equal to the number of nests, and your graph, though impressive," I motioned to all the lights on the table. "Doesn't account for the different nests versus individuals on their own." I thought for a minute, remembering some information from Sam and Dean when I had been first learning. "What about the Alpha?"

"He's in Morocco." Pierce said. "A buddy of mine was tracking him for a while." Pierce shook his head. "Lost his life trying to keep track of him."

"Our intelligence states the same." Serena added.

"And with the Alpha out of the way, we have a perfect opportunity to strike." Mick added. "The question that now lies is what would be the best method of going about this?" Everybody turned to look at me and Pierce, then.

"Shit, I feel like I'm getting put on stage now." He commented, looking over at me with a laugh. I thought for a moment, trying to examine it like a math problem or something. I opened up my notebook to a blank page and started scribbling down some ideas.

"We can't go at it all at once." I said. "Nor will it be easy. I know you guys did it in London, but we're looking at a serious area difference here. We've got 48 states to work with, and over 3 million square miles that vampires could easily be hiding in."

"London isn't much bigger than 150,000 kilometers." Mick agreed. "How would you suggest making up for the size difference?"

"The best way to do this would be to separate out our area in to smaller sections, that was we can also run trial and error in with keeping it vampire-free afterwards." I decided, earning agreeing nods all around the table.

"What would you recommend?" Mick asked. I looked over at Pierce, who appeared to have an idea.

"What if we started with just the Midwest?" He asked. "48 states total. Why not cut it in to 12 for now?"

"The Northwest region?" Mick asked. Pierce and I nodded. "Seems viable. Would it be in 1/4th increments completely or just for the trial phase?" Mick asked.

"Completely." Serena said. "It will make monitoring easier if we focus our efforts that way, and will also ensure we don't spread ourselves too thin."

"Alright." Mick agreed. "The American Midwest. How do you propose going about it?"

"Similarly to how we did in London." Serena said. "We monitor. We watch. We wait. We track and catalogue and find the best way to kill them off without alerting the others. Like you said, vampires talk amongst each other. If they hear that their own kind is being murdered, they'll band together."

"Why don't we let them?" Pierce asked. I looked over at him, confused. "Hear me out. It's like trying to track down a rat problem. Why kill them individually instead of watching where they go, and when they do band together killing them off as a group?" I thought about that, scribbling down a few more ideas.

"What about the risk of them creating more?" I asked.

"Cut 'em off, smoke 'em out." He answered. "See if we can drive them to a safe haven of our choosing, and go at them from there."

"But what about the people that we put at risk?" I persisted. "Scared vampires will react for survival. That'll mean an increase in deaths, an increase in turns," I shook my head. "It's a bad idea."

"It may be a casualty we'll have to accept." Mick said. I shook my head.

"No." I argued. "It's not. If we're going to do this to protect people, we shouldn't put them at risk along with it."

"What would you recommend, then?" Pierce asked. I thought, looking at what I'd written.

"Start off with the loners." I said. "Kidnap them. See how social they are and who they know. Let them lead us from vampire to vampire, and go from killing off loners to being able to track and maintain better knowledge on where they are as groups. Monitor how they interact with each other." I thought about that. "This actually has the potential to exponentially increase our knowledge of vampires as social creatures and interlocking groups.

"Yeah, but they're still monsters." Pierce muttered. "Who cares about how they act?"

"It just helped us set up a game plan." I pointed out.

"Yeah, but once they're all gone," he argued. "What's the point in having that information?"

"Record keeping." Mick answered. "Maintaining knowledge. Preserving the information for future research and generations that may have questions."

"Whatever." Pierce said.

"So what do we do?" Serena asked.

"Find some vampires, I guess." I said. "Get an estimate of how many we're working with here. From there, we'll start monitoring them."

"Should we find a nest or just an individual?" Mick asked.

"I like Kylie's plan of having an individual lead us to a nest." Serena said. "We gather as much information as we can – names, places, habits, etc. cetera. From there, we bug them, follow them, and watch."

"I can set up some tracking spells if needed, as well as alerts to let us know if they leave specific areas." I offered. "See if we can keep track of how they move and why."

"I've got a few buddies that may have leads on some vamps." Pierce added.

"And we've got the facilities to contain one." Mick concluded. "Excellent. When can you have those leads ready for us?" That one was aimed at Pierce.

"At the earliest, probably tomorrow." He said.

"Then we'll ship out in two days to go acquire a vampire." Mick decided, turning to Serena. "Do we have a portable containment unit?"

"I can be one." I said, looking around. "Karma is trained to find a vampire and alert me. We can get it back no problem."

"I'd prefer a physical unit, as a precaution." Mick said. "One that we can get in to the compound and in to a secured room much easier."

"Don't ward it, then." I said. "I'll pop him in and pop myself out. No harm to me. Easier to get him there. Once we have the unit in the room I can pop back in, knock him out, and it'll be easier to tie him up so we can get to work."

"Ketch will want to be here for this." Mick said. "He does love a good hunt, and I'd rather send you in with a partner."

"I'll go with her." Pierce offered. "I've heard about what you could do before you went all witchy woman. I'd love the opportunity to see you in action."

"You heard about me?" I asked.

"A lot of Hunters have." Pierce said. "You stuck it to demons before you even knew what demons were. Everyone knows that story." He laughed. "They heard about the salt bombs you used. A few of my buddies are trying it out now and like the idea."

"Damn." I muttered. "Cool."

"Pierce, you can accompany Ms. Dillinger," Mick said. "But Ketch will still want to come."

"The more the merrier." I said. "Will Mary be coming?"

"Most likely, yes."

"Sweet." I looked over at the map behind Mick, thinking. "We're actually going to do this, aren't we?"

"We've done it before." Mick said. "You've seen the results of it."

"Yeah, but seeing it already done and actually doing it…" I shook my head. "What about vampires that haven't killed anyone?"

"I've never heard of a vampire that didn't." Pierce said.

"They're still monsters." Serena added.

"Yeah, but… Aren't they also still people?" I asked. "Don't they still have the ability to make a choice? Rugarus and Wendigos, I get. They kinda can't make choices. But vampires don't always choose to be vampires, they're made that way, and they can make choices."

"And they chose to kill." Mick reminded me. "They chose to drink people, to turn people against their will, and to kill."

"Aren't there any ways to cure a vampire?" I flipped back to my notes on them. "Yeah, there's a mixture you can drink if you haven't had blood yet."

"But other than that, there are no known cures." Mick said. "And even then, that one is extremely painful and has a high likelihood of killing the infected."

"But it's still possible." I said.

"Then if we come across any new vampires as collateral, who haven't fed yet," Mick said. "We shall cure them and send them on their way."

I still wasn't certain if I liked it, but at the same time I couldn't help but be a little happy. We were about to take a big step towards creating a safer America, where people weren't left with questions after a loved one died or worse – tried to kill them.

We were going to do something good, something big.

I just couldn't help but wonder if it would just end with vamps, or if they would move on to others like werewolves or demons.

Or witches, for that matter.


	20. Life Before His Eyes (3rd POV)

Castiel was dying.

He was dying, and he knew it. The demon, whatever weapon he had stabbed him with… It was killing Cas. Slowly. Agonizingly. But it was killing him. He knew it.

She was there, in his mind.

Kylie.

She was there, shouting for him to hold on, for him to live. It was like she was speaking from so many different times, all at once, in his mind.

 _"Are you really an angel?"_

 _"Promise me you'll visit?"_

 _"Find me when you are, wherever I end up. Don't try to save me. I'm not worth saving. I just want to see you one more time."_

 _"Yeah, well, I can always go get more food. I can't just run out to the gas station and buy a new Castiel. So eat. It'll help you feel better."_

 _"Do you want to... Stay, for a little bit? If you don't, I understand completely, but I've found it easier to deal with hardship when you're... Not alone, you know? You can keep listening and doing your thing even, but… You look like it's killing you inside, as did Dean, and it's doing the same thing to me. Dean's going to do whatever he does to figure this out, because he needs his brother for this one, and most people tend to turn to family in times like this... If you want company, I'm here for you. If you don't, that's alright as well."_

 _"Nice punch. You OK?"_

 _"Don't leave until I get back."_

 _"I'm here because I fell in love, Hannah. I'm here because my existence in this fight stopped being convenient for him, because you angels are such self-righteous and racist beings that you think it's bad for an angel to love a human, humans that you were charged to protect and guide and love like you loved your father, correct? My point is that you know Castiel is a good angel, a good man."_

 _"I don't want a life without you either."_

 _"I can't imagine a world without you, so don't even try to make me ok with one, alright? I will not lose you. I absolutely will not lose you."_

 _"I almost lost you."_

 _"I love you."_

 _"Come on, DAMMIT! Just LIVE! Take everything from me, please, but just LIVE DAMMIT! STAY ALIVE!"_ That one, he'd never actually heard from her before, not in person. But when he was dying before, when the grace was failing him and the rogue angel, Adina, had tried to kill him… He had heard her voice, in the back of his mind, shouting those words.

Just like he could hear her now. But he wasn't making it out alive this time. He could feel it. This was the end for Castiel. "Dean," he coughed, trying to focus on the elder hunter. He had to focus his mind. He had to tell them. But he could still see her, in the back of his mind. He could still hear her voice as he spoke. "Something's wrong. I…" He grunted in pain, taking a few breaths. "I can't heal myself. I think the… I think the demon's spear was poisoned." He could feel it coursing through his veins, feel the poison and absolute agony roaring through him. "I don't…" He wasn't going to make it. He knew it. "I think I'm dying."

Kylie would've cut him off before he could say it, would've told him that they'll figure something out, would've been near tears. She would've been holding his hand, shaking her head. Her hair would've scattered about with the movement.

It would've caught the light beautifully, too. His own angel, perfect in every way.

"No." Dean said, and for a moment it sounded like her. No matter how much Castiel was thankful that she wasn't here, he still couldn't help but wish she was a in a selfish way. He just wanted her to be alive again. "No, you just need some time, OK? You'll heal up the old fashioned way." Sam turned to his mother for a moment to speak with her, but Castiel couldn't quite understand them. It took too much focus to do that, too much focus to distract himself from the sound of his own blood rushing through his veins.

"You idiots. You're all going to die." He could just barely hear Crowley, but it was enough to help distract him a little. Dean turned, clearly unhappy at the appearance. They spoke, but Castiel didn't pay too much attention. He tried, but he couldn't. He still remembered what he hadn't said.

He never told her how short his time actually was, when his grace was running low. Nor had he told her how painfully aware of that fact he was, and how desperate he had been to spend as much time with her as he could before it ate him up completely. This time, with the grace destroying itself within him, when it was gone it would destroy him as well, and he would be dead.

He had tried to, once, after a bad hunt with Sam. Nobody had liked it. Nobody was satisfied with it. Castiel had been fed up with Kylie and Sam bickering, and had paid the consequence of utilizing his failing grace. In turn, Kylie had done what she could to lessen his pain.

He hated that, hated seeing her do that for him. He tried to talk with her about what had then been an inevitability, to him, but she had refused. So he didn't. He wished he had. She would've been more prepared for when he almost did die, and wouldn't have tried to save him. She wouldn't have risked her life, almost dying herself, to save him. He couldn't imagine how much pain she had been in, but the thought of it hurt him more than anything else.

It was that thought that made him fearful of when she kept up with magic and witchcraft. He had seen her use it to save him at a cost to herself, and would do anything to get her to stop causing pain to her person. Her trying to sacrifice herself for him only made him feel worse, feel worthless and helpless and hopeless and completely undeserving of such a woman like her. She was willing to do so much to protect him and the Winchesters. Just learning that she had made that choice…

It had terrified him, because he couldn't stop her. It had absolutely terrified him to be painfully aware of how much she had given so that he could live just a little longer. He had never understood both why the Winchesters worked endlessly hard to protect each other, yet at the same time hated it when one did that for the other. Now he knew. Now he understood why they always asked to not be saved, for one of them to just stop.

If Kylie had stopped, he wouldn't be here. But she would also be alive, more than likely. She wouldn't have had to worry about witchcraft. She would have been fine without him.

But at the same time, when he thought of the wonderful things that came after – the apartment, the plan for Hawaii that never happened (no matter how much he wished he had done that with her), the engagement – it made him feel so immeasurably grateful that she had done that, that she had helped him stay on long enough for him to be given new grace and, later on, find his own and destroy the vampiric link that she had created between them.

He never told her because he didn't think there was a good way TO tell her without it sounding rude or crass.

Castiel was pulled from his reverie upon the mention of the name Ramiel. "Yes." Castiel said, focusing on the conversation again. Sam turned to him, confused.

"What?" He asked.

"Ramiel," Cas explained. "Prince of Hell."

"Ramiel, Prince of Hell." Crowley mimicked. "It's catchy. It rhymes." The demon looked from Cas to Dean to Sam to Mary. "And he's going to kill each and every one of you."

"No." Castiel shook his head. "The Princes are all dead."

"That's what we told people to stop them looking. But in reality," Crowley corrected. "Not so much."

"What," Dean started to ask. "What the hell is a Prince of… Hell?" Dean Winchester, always so literate when he spoke. Kylie would've laughed at that statement. She would've given him some sort of hell for it later.

"The oldest of the old demons." Crowley explained. "The first generation after Lilith. Lucifer turned them himself, before the oceans drank Atlantis."

"They were trained to be generals," Castiel added. "To lead demonic armies in the war against Heaven."

"Like Azazel." Mary commented. Crowley nodded.

"They even have his eyes." He agreed. As Crowley explained how he came to know Ramiel and, in turn, become the King of Hell, Castiel fell back in to remembering what he had never told Kylie.

He never told her how much it scared him to see her injured or in pain or held captive or in general to witness her not by his side or near him, in absolutely perfect health.

No, scared wasn't the right word. He felt absolute dread at the thought, as though a weight had dropped so low in to his gut that he couldn't move until he knew she was perfectly alright. Every single time he felt as though he could die himself, if only to trade places with her and have her be healthy, have her be alright, have her be safe. He felt it when he watched her die in his arms. He felt it when Bartholomew's men had held an angel blade to her throat. He felt it when he watched her put his pain on to herself. He felt it when she had collapsed after getting the backlash of his returning grace. He felt it when he watched Dean throw her aside like a rag doll.

And he felt it most when he saw the aftermath of his own fists on her body. Seeing her in the hospital… He never told her how he almost, ALMOST, turned and left. He almost couldn't see her, and see the result of what he had done. He almost couldn't bear it. He almost left her, distanced himself so that he wouldn't have to see that look that she never stopped giving him, that hope and belief and faith and LOVE that she felt for him and expressed every day through the most beautiful and vibrant eyes he had ever witnessed in his millennia of being alive…

He couldn't have said at the time what would have been worse, walking in and seeing that look gone, or walking in and seeing it still there.

But he couldn't leave her. He couldn't do it. A life without her, a life in which he abandoned her after something that terrible… That was infinitely worse than a life where he tried to atone for his mistakes and just prayed, prayed to a father he had given up hope for long ago, that she would someday forgive him.

That look in her eyes had never faded. He had been privileged enough to wake up to it every day for a while, to see it whenever he came back to their home, be it at the Bunker or in their apartment. He could have fallen in love with her just for her eyes, just for the way they always expressed her emotions most.

He was glad she wasn't here, though. Her eyes… the sorrow in them would've been enough to break his heart. He let out a groan, imagining the look in her eyes.

"Cas," Dean said, bringing him back to the present again. He focused on Dean, determined to hear what he was saying. "How bad is it?" Once he focused fully in the present again, all of his pain hit him like a freight train. He groaned, moving in hopes of alleviating even a small modicum of the pain. Kylie had loosened his tie at one point, when he was dying. Cas did the same, hoping it would help out any. From the way Dean fixated on his chest, Castiel knew that the poison had visibly spread.

"Crowley's right." Cas muttered. Ramiel wouldn't just let him be. He would come for Cas, and he would kill everyone else as well. "You should go."

"Cas, come on," Dean tried to plead. Castiel wasn't having it, though. He was determined to save them.

"No, you listen to me." Cas ordered. "You… Look," He had to get the words out. He had to tell them how much they meant to him, how important they were and how thankful he was that they had been in his life. "Thank you. Thank you." He looked at each Winchester in turn. "Knowing you, it… It's been the best part of my life. And the things we," another burst of pain. He inhaled sharply for a moment, fighting back another groan before he continued. "The things we shared together, they have changed me." Castiel's mind turned from Kylie for just a moment, to seeing different moments with the Winchesters. Talking with Mary late at night. Laughing with Dean. Embracing Sam in a hug. "You are my family."

He saw her. He saw her, behind them, for just a moment. She looked just as she had before Lucifer had killed her. Smiling. Bright. She smiled at him, a figment of his imagination, giving him the strength to keep going. "I love you." He whispered, watching as the mirage shimmered away. He meant it towards those in front of him, but he couldn't help but mean it for her too. He missed her so much.

He had been certain she was alive, but at this point he couldn't care as much. If she was alive, she was alive and doing well. If she was dead, he would see her again. He'd be re-united with her in Heaven.

Sometimes, special people are allowed to share Heavens, when their love is great enough for the other. It did not happen often, but when it did Castiel always went to look and see who they were. A peasant couple from the 15th century, millers, forever living in the memory of a day out in the field with their daughter. A homosexual couple from the 1960's, in the apartment that they had shared together for forty years. A couple from the 1800's, on the small boat that they made together with their own two hands. A few couples every century, spending eternity with each other and enjoying every moment of it.

He knew, in his own human heart, that he and Kylie would share a Heaven when they were both dead.

"I love all of you." Castiel choked the words out, making sure they knew. They had to understand. He closed his eyes, still seeing her behind his eyelids. "Just please, please…" He could almost feel her next to him. He wouldn't want her to stay. He would want her to go. He would want her to be safe. If she was here, then, they'd do it. They'd pull her away to make sure she lived, and they'd leave him because of her, because he wouldn't want her to see him die and the Winchesters would respect that. He could almost see her, kicking and screaming and arguing that she wouldn't leave. She would never leave him.

As long as she was in his heart, he wouldn't be alone when he died.

"Just go." He begged. "Don't let my last moments be spent watching you die. I can't do that again. I can't watch the people I care about die in front of me again. Just run, please." He gritted his teeth, determined. They had to go. They had to leave. They had to be safe. They were going to make it. They were going to live. He was finally going to do something right again, and save the people he cared about. He was going to save someone again, he wasn't going to die for nothing. "Save yourselves." He urged, seeing that they weren't moving. "I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can."

"Cas, no." Dean said.

"Yes," he insisted, but Dean just shook his head again.

"Kylie wouldn't leave." Sam stated. "She'd stay and," he laughed a little, shaking his head. "If we tried to pull her away I think she would stab us." Cas let out a choked laugh, then grimaced. "But she wouldn't leave. She would stay with you until the end, and do everything she could. She would raise Heaven and Hell and everything in between to save you, would charge right out of here to go kill Ramiel or..." Sam didn't finish his sentence. He didn't have to. _Or die trying herself._

"We're not leaving you either." Dean summed up.

"You need to keep fighting!" Cas would've shouted the words if he'd had the strength. They had to keep going, had to keep doing something for the world. It was doomed without them.

"We are fighting." Sam said, determination in his own eyes. "We're fighting for you Cas."

"And like you said, we're family." Dean added. "And we don't leave family behind."

 _"I'm not leaving you, Cas."_ He could hear her voice, in his head. He couldn't remember the specific instance, but he could still hear it loud and clear. " _I love you."_

Castiel leaned his head back, closing his eyes. She was still there, still smiling. They were out in a park. It was when his grace had been failing him. He'd insisted on doing a few more things together, on spending more time with her so that it wasn't wasted.

That was it. That was where it had happened.

 _She looked beautiful in the sunlight. Simple shirt, jeans, flannel, and a Gas n Sip bag of food behind them. Cas didn't want it between them. He wanted his arm around her, and her head on his chest as they laid back and looked up at how the sun filtered through the trees._

 _They had been asking each other questions, just avoiding the issue as a whole. "What would you have done if we had never met?" Castiel asked. "If life had not turned for you as it had?"_

 _"I always thought I'd go to college." She mused. "Get a degree in psychology. Be a therapist."_

 _"Why a therapist?"_

 _"I like helping people, I guess." She shrugged. "I don't know. It seemed like something I could do. What about you?" She challenged. "What do you think you would do if you were human still?"_

 _"I'd be with you." He answered. She dipped her head in the slightest way, causing Castiel to look up, curious. She was blushing, just slightly._

 _"And if we had never met?"_

 _"I'd be…" He thought for the appropriate word, one that she and Dean and Sam used. "Screwed, I think is the correct term." She let out a snort of laughter before it became full-forced, if only for a moment. "You saw me try as a human." Castiel said. "I was admittedly awful at it. I honestly don't think I would have done well without you." Her laughter died down, and he could just barely see her content smile out of the corner of his eye. "If you could go back," he started his new question, curious. "What would you do?"_

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _"If you could go back to before your involvement with the Winchesters," he explained. "And before me, before anything had happened to your family, and live out a normal life as you originally imagined for yourself, what do you think you would have ended up doing right now?"_

 _"I wouldn't go back." She stated. "I wouldn't change any of this, not even to have my family back."_

 _"Why wouldn't you?"_

 _"Because I'm happy with how my life is now." She answered. "It's strange, but… I don't want to change much of this. I'd rather you be… healthy," she admitted. "But I… I'm not leaving you, Cas. I love you."_

He was crying, just a little bit, and he knew it. He couldn't help it. It wasn't just the pain, it was her. He could see her, more and more prominently every single time he closed his eyes. He missed her so much. He couldn't help now but want her to be there so much, selfishly, for his own comfort.

That was the last thing that he would never tell her. No matter how much he knew she would want him to fight, he couldn't do it anymore. The weight of his sins, of his mistakes and failures and of HER and her death… He wasn't certain if she was alive or dead anymore. He just wanted it to be over for him, so he didn't have to live in that uncertainty anymore. He wanted to be free, and to see her again.

He couldn't help it. He just wanted to die.

He closed his eyes, hoping for one last good memory of her. One last thing he never told her.

Their first date. He never told how nervous he had felt to go on a first date with her. He had put effort in to trying to surprise her with the date, disguising it as a case, and it had almost worked. He had almost been successful in doing this.

Until she'd asked if the clothes were akin to those of "date clothes." His voice had faltered, just a little bit, when she asked. He was certain that she knew. She hadn't, though. Not until she heard the change in how he spoke. She'd told him later on, and he'd laughed about it.

But when he saw her, standing there in a black skirt and simple shirt… He could still see her, in the back of his mind. She looked beautiful no matter what, Castiel would attest to that whole heartedly, but when she opened the door he just… He couldn't help himself. She was beautiful. Radiant. Exquisite. Enchanting. Awe-Inspiring.

He'd had words planned. He had practiced them in his mind. _"Good afternoon. You look lovely. As you've probably already learned, this is in fact a date. I'm sorry if I did not ask you out for it properly, but I wished to surprise you. Are you ready to leave?"_

Instead, what had happened was exactly what he HAD told her shortly afterwards. He was quite honestly swept away with how beautiful she looked; his emotions surging up inside of him in a surprisingly human way, ordering him to act, act now, and kiss her.

So he had. She made him feel more alive and human when he was with her, more of a person instead of an angel or a protector. He was thankful for every moment of that date he spent with her. That was when he felt the most human; the most like a normal man, without the burden of truth and knowledge as to what was happening outside the view of everyone else around them. He could've listened to her speak for hours, and in turn gladly told her the truth as to everything she had asked. There was no fear or worry or doubt in his mind, then. He felt freed.

He was glad that he'd told her why he kept the plan for them that he had concocted with her so long ago. He was glad he'd told her that he was surprised at the amount of good that had actually come from Metatron's actions. He was glad that they'd spent that night laughing, watching movies he knew she loved and enjoying popped corn and soda in their pajamas.

He hadn't told her the rest because he just hadn't had the time to. And now… Now he wouldn't ever get to tell her.

"Castiel…" He could hear her voice, it sounded so real. He almost smiled. Auditory hallucinations weren't a good sign, but if it was her voice, he didn't mind as much. "Cas," he opened his eyes a little, just enough. Maybe he could see her again as well.

That was how he knew he was having visual hallucinations as well.


	21. Castiel Is Dying

Over the next few weeks we were making progress on Project V, excellent progress. We had an exact number of how many vampires there were in the Midwest (241), as well as had started dispatching and eliminating a portion of them. Mary and Ketch continued to work together, mostly on going out and hunting nests. I worked solo usually, though sometimes with Pierce if Mick thought the nest would prove dangerous enough. We had already knocked that original number of 241 down to 172, which was amazing in itself.

We had decided to go in to a monitoring pause to see how the current 172 vampires would react to the decrease in their numbers, partially because something came up and Mary got a short re-assignment. Ketch was staying here, focusing on monitoring and, when needed, stepping in to ensure that the vampires didn't chose to re-populate any time soon.

"What are you working on?" I asked, enjoying some tea in my room as I talked with her over the phone.

"Retrieval." She said. "And I get to kill a demon with it. I'm pulling in another Hunter and the boys to help."

"Which Hunter?"

"Wally."

"Why?"

"I figured it would be a good re-introduction for him to the Men of Letters." She said. "Something a bit more his style than Mick's sales pitch."

"So you haven't told Sam and Dean yet?" I asked. She let out a sigh.

"You haven't told Castiel yet either." She reminded me.

"I'm still figuring that out." I said.

"You're still hiding from the issue."

"You're hiding from one too."

"The difference is, though, that I'm planning to tell Sam and Dean."

"Really?" I asked. "When?"

"Soon."

"How do you think they'll take it?"

"How do you think Castiel will respond to your 'resurrected' state?" She asked in turn.

"I… I don't know." I admitted. "Good, I hope."

"He's still searching for you." She admitted. "Every day he doesn't search for Kelly, he's looking for you."

"He… He is?"

"Yes." She said. "He believes you're still alive, but…"

"But what?"

"He's starting to give up." She said. "He thinks he might've been wrong, and that he's making a mistake by looking for you and Kelly, instead of just picking one. He just…" I could almost hear her shake her head. "He's starting to get tired, and to fade out a little. He's made a lot of hard choices."

"Yeah. I know." The words came out with a slightly bitter taste. "He needs a focus. He needs grounding."

"He needs you."

"If he needs me to ground him, then he's obsessed or so far off the rails it's not even funny." I argued. "If he needs me to ground him, he needs more help than you think." There was a long pause from Mary before she spoke again.

"I'm seeing him with the boys later on today." She said. "I won't tell him, I promised you I wouldn't, but I still think that he needs you."

"He needs to stop crusading." I said, my voice tired. "And stop blaming himself for so many things."

"I've got to go, Wally's here." Mary said. "I'll call in with a report later."

"Sounds good." Mary hung up after that. She wasn't big on good-byes, really. Not as far as I could tell. I stared at my phone for a little bit, remembering when the lock screen was an engaged couple instead of a song quote. It was the chorus to "It's My Life," by Bon Jovi, the words making the shape of a tilted guitar.

I got a call at 9:07, the picture showing a little fruity drink with an umbrella and a pitchfork sticking out of it. Crowley.

I answered it immediately. I knew if he was calling, it would be an emergency. I wasn't wrong. I didn't even get a chance to say hello before he spoke.

"Castiel is dying." He said.

I was in my room, working out new schematics for a possible large-scale extermination procedure, with another mug of hot tea in my hand.

I dropped it the second he finished his sentence, disappearing in an instant to Crowley's side. I didn't even hear the ceramic break.

"Where?" I asked, watching as Crowley hung up the phone. We were standing outside an abandoned farmhouse. I could just… I could feel the negative energy at work in there.

It was a stupid question to ask, but I had to make sure.

"In there." He answered, pointing towards the door. "Sam, Dean, and Mary are in there as well. They don't want to leave him."

"Can he…" I stared at the door, terrified of what I was about to ask. "Can they do it? Can they fix him?"

Crowley's silence was all the answer I needed. I nodded, turning to walk in, when Crowley stopped me. "He was stabbed."

"With what?"

"The Lance of Michael." He answered. "It's a weapon… Designed to cause agonizing pain to angels. Designed to kill angels." I remembered reading about it in the lore books back in Britain. It… There was no known cure.

Not yet anyways.

"Who did it?"

"A Prince of Hell." I knew about them as well. Not your typical demons. Nasty pieces of work. Almost impossible to kill. The Colt could do it, but as for much else… It would be difficult.

I strode in, quickly and God… So terrified. Cas… Cas was dying.

Cas was dying.

"Crowley," Dean's voice, strong and angry as he kept his back to me. Mary saw me, though, and her eyes went wide. Sam turned, following suit as Dean continued. "What are you still doing…" Dean turned around as well, and when he saw me his sentence fell, incomplete.

I didn't focus on them, though. I focused on Castiel. I hadn't seen him since… Since Billie. He'd changed, more than I saw that night. His eyes were closed, tight with pain. His tie was pulled loose, even more crooked that ever. His skin was pale and sweaty, coating his hair in a thin sheen. And his shirt… It was pulled open. I could see the black cracks trailing downwards, towards the only logical source – the stab wound, deep and bloody in his stomach. I didn't say a word, I just stood, watching him. I wanted it to be a bad dream, a nightmare, anything else other than what I was seeing right now.

But it wasn't. This was the reality I was faced with.

"Castiel…" My voice trailed off, unable to believe what I was seeing. I stood there, frozen in fear, uncertain as to what to say. This can't be real. This can't be happening. It can't be him. "Cas?" I don't know why I asked, I just… I didn't know what else to do BUT say his name, a thousand and three questions all hiding behind it as I opened Schrodinger's box.

Castiel smiled just a little bit, opening his eyes. He kept smiling, staring at me, until his eyes fully registered what he saw.

He saw me. No disguise. Just… Just me.

For the first time in a long time, intentionally just me.

"Castiel?" I said his name a third time, like a question, uncertain and terrified. It felt like I was back in that alley, so long ago, and trying to wrap my head around the idea that God was standing in front of me.

But it wasn't God then, nor was it now. Now it was… It was the man I loved, the man I had never stopped loving, on the brink of death.

"Kylie…." His voice trailed off as his eyes widened, staring at me. "You… You…"

"I'm here." I whispered, forcing my feet to move. I stopped maybe just an inch away from him, uncertain as to what to do. Do I touch him? Hug him? Kiss him? Apologize? Keep my distance?

Castiel answered the question, reaching out a shaking hand towards mine. I clasped his quickly, tightly, trying to be reassuring. "I'm here." I repeated. "I'm here, I promise."

"I'm hallucinating." He muttered. I put a hand to his head. Fever. Definitely fever. He looked around at Sam and Dean and Mary, who were all staring, too shocked to do anything else, too shocked to stand in front of me and stop me. "I… I've been sick before. When I was human. I'm hallucinating." He looked from me to Dean, full of confusion and a need for clarity. "I'm having a visual hallucination."

I didn't have to turn to know that Dean was shaking his head. I drew Castiel's attention back to me, fighting back tears. "I promise I'm here." I had to say it one more time, had to try and get him to hear it and listen. "I promise I'm here. I…." I swallowed thickly. "I'm so sorry." I felt tears fall as I said that. "I missed you so much. I'm just," I hung my head. "I'm such an idiot, Cas. I'm so sorry."

"Kylie," his hand left mine, and slowly wound it's way up my arm to cup my cheek. He pulled gently, urging me to look back at him. "Tell me you're real." He pleaded. "Tell me one more time."

"I'm really real, Castiel." I promised. "I'm here, I'm real, I'm right here and I'm so sorry."

"Quit apologizing." He ordered, his voice firm. "Please." I nodded, uncertain as to what to say, how to say the words.

"Boys," Mary's voice, quiet yet firm. "I think they deserve a moment."

I listened as they walked away, squeezing my eyes as tears fought their own way past my defenses. Once I could find the words to say, I spoke again, opening my eyes to look in to his. They were so shocked, yet so kind and soft and pained and… So many emotions and feelings, all swirling and conflicting in ways that only his eyes could. "I…" I finally tried. "I'm here to fix you. I'm gonna…" I worked hard to keep eye contact, to not let my eyes wander about his damaged form and just see how bad it was. Not yet. "I'm gonna fix you up, heal you like you did to me so many times. I… I'm gonna fix this."

"I'm dying." He stated plainly. "I don't think," he stopped, coughing for a moment. I felt relieved when I didn't see blood. "I can be fixed this time."

"Don't say that." I begged. "Please, Castiel, please don't say that."

"Quit calling me that." He ordered again, his thumb moving slowly to wipe a stray tear from my cheek. "Please. Call me Cas again." I nodded again, taking a deep breath with it.

"Just let me try and fix you." I fought back tears. I needed to stop crying, needed to focus. "Please, Cas… Just let me try and fix you."

He didn't say anything, just lifted his shirt where the wound was. I could clearly see the cracks emanating from it, clearly see how bad it was getting.

I put a tentative hand over the area, and recoiled as though I had been shocked. The pain… The agony…

I pressed my mouth in to a thin, firm line. "Cas," I said, trying to keep fear from my words. "I love you."

"What are you going to do?" He asked. He heard it anyways. The truth was… This wasn't anything I could fix. This was made by a powerful weapon, made by friggin' GOD, and one that was intended to cause angels pain when they died.

I didn't have to answer, though. I heard a yelp, followed by a crash, and a black mass came sailing in through the newly-broken barn door. I turned, watching as Crowley slammed body-first on to hard cement, and witnessed my first ever demon knockout.

The whistling that followed was ominous, and I turned to see who I assumed was a prince of hell calmly stroll in to the barn. "You." I hissed. Sam, Dean, and Mary were on opposite sides of him, the four of us making an effective circle as I stood guard next to Cas.

"I don't know you." He commented, pointing at me. He turned his gaze from me to Castiel. "However, I do know him."

"Stay away." I ordered, pulling out my angel blades. Pointless against a prince of Hell, but still something I could use to defend Cas.

"You do realize that won't do anything, right?" He asked, pointing at the angel blades in my hands. He turned, looking at everybody's weapons. Dean bore a set of brass knuckles, enchanted extremely well (Men of Letters work. Very impressive). Mary held an angel blade as well, only one compared to my two. And Sam…

I knew I smelled holy oil. Sam held a lighter. He didn't need it, though. I cast a hand out, lighting the large circle on fire and effectively trapping the Prince.

"Which one are you?" I asked.

"Ramiel." He introduced. "Pleasure to meet the interloper. And this… This is quite toasty." He put his hands out at the fire, then rubbed them together for effect. As my anger flared, Karma appeared beside me, and growled angrily at the Prince. Dean maybe cast me a second's glance at the noise, but left it be.

Both brothers paced cautiously around the circle, whereas Mary and I stood our ground. I didn't want to leave Castiel's side. I didn't want to leave him open. Mary was keeping the door guarded, watching for any extra assailants. "Karma," I whispered. "Defend the Crowley." She did as she was told, walking slowly around the circle to stand guard next to the still unconscious demon.

"You stabbed one of our friends." Dean stated, his voice a deadly sort of calm, almost as though he was on the edge.

"Your friend was trespassing." Ramiel answered.

"Tell us how to cure him." Sam demanded instead. Ramiel let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

"As I'm certain your surprise witch can already tell you, there is no cure." He answered. I felt my heart shatter at that, before hardening again. No. There had to be something. There was always something.

Dean cast a sideways glance at me for confirmation. "I… I can't do anything." I kept my focus on Ramiel, and knew Dean was hardening his own gaze before turning back to the creature.

"You have any idea who we are?" He asked. Ramiel shrugged.

"I don't care. I don't care who you are. I don't care why you're here. I don't care about Heaven or Hell or anything. I don't even care that Lucifer's got a bun in the oven."

"You know about that?" Mary asked.

"My sister, Dagon," why was Ramiel answering our questions? "She's taken an interest. But me?" He shrugged again. "Eh."

"Let me guess," Dean offered. "You don't care."

"All I wanted was to be left alone." The demon answered. "But then you come. You… steal from me. And that? Ooh. That I cannot abide." I glanced around at the Winchesters for a moment. What had they stolen? Why had they stolen anything instead of killing him? Ramiel pulled out a pocket watch, examining it for a moment. "Give me back what's mine, or I take it off your lifeless bodies," he glanced over at myself and Castiel. "Starting with the angel and his witch. You've got…" He took another glance around the circle. "Thirty seconds." He held up his watch, and clicked the button to start it.

"Obviously we got no idea what you're talking about." Dean said. I glanced over at Mary. I knew that was a lie. I knew Mary had a mission for the Men of Letters. I was originally supposed to be unseen backup, if called.

She hadn't called. I don't think she wanted to.

"Twenty seconds." Ramiel stated, chuckling as he looked around at all of us again. When nobody came forwards with an object, he smiled. "Have it your way." He said, the clock hitting zero. He reached around, and I watched the air ripple and bend around him as he summoned the Lance of Michael. He raised it high in to the air, and brought it down with a hard slam to the ground. The ripple of power from it put out the holy fire, throwing Mary, Sam, and Dean backward. I just barely kept my ground, determined to protect Castiel.

I watched Karma charge first, barking and snarling as she hurled herself at him. Ramiel didn't hesitate to stab her, and I watched as she dissipated in to black smoke and goo. "NO!" I screeched, feeling my angel blades fall in to my palms.

I charged, howling in anger, and saw Sam pick himself up to do the same. Ramiel fought us off easily with the lance, aiming a stab at me while using the butt of it to keep Sam off him. I just barely avoided the blade, blocking it with my own two as Sam was thrown back again. Dean charged next, and I was thrown back to the side with a swift kick. Dean didn't last long himself. Mary went at him afterwards, determination in her eyes as Sam joined her. I got back up, tossing Sam one angel blade to use to block so that the three of us all had one. Dean picked up a shovel, joining us with it and his enchanted brass knuckles.

Nothing we did seemed to matter, though. Ramiel closed in on Dean, almost about to get off a good stab to him. I jumped, then, aiming for his arms and the weapon. I and just barely caught Mary stabbing Ramiel in the back with her own blade as I wrestled the lance from Ramiel, narrowly avoiding getting stabbed myself. I got it from him, but just barely. I turned then, swinging the accursed thing around once above my head before ramming it firmly through the prince's stomach.

For a moment, there was absolute silence. Then he laughed, almost mocking my effort before he exploded in to a small cloud of black dust.

I took a deep breath, lowering the lance as I stared at it. For a moment, I felt better. If the demon was dead, maybe Cas would get better.

His pained scream behind me made me drop the weapon in an instant, running to his side. "Cas!" I shouted. Sam and Dean joined me on either side. I took one of his hands, not certain what else to do. I couldn't lose him. I had just lost Karma. There had to be a way to save him.

But there wasn't, and I knew it. I knew, that no matter how powerful I was or how skilled my magical abilities were, that I was completely helpless, utterly powerless, to save the one person I loved the most.

I don't think I've ever felt that incapable before.

"Cas." Sam said. "Hey, buddy. Hey, we're here, Cas." He started seizing, his mouth overflowing with an ugly black goo.

"No." I whispered, putting a hand on his chest. I forced everything I could in to healing him, everything ounce of power I could find. I didn't care if it was angelic grace I was using, didn't care if it ate away at my soul. Anything I could do, anything I could find, I pushed it all out towards him.

 _Come on, DAMMIT! Just LIVE!_

"We're right here, buddy." Sam said, his voice reassuring. I kept pushing, kept trying to stop this as my hands became coated in that black goop.

 _Take everything from me, please, but just LIVE DAMMIT!_

"Don't die on me Cas." I begged. "Not now. Please, not now."

 _STAY ALIVE!_

"Hang in there, all right?" Sam asked, turning to me. I could feel sweat covering every inch of me. "What do we do?" I kept pushing, kept trying, kept draining every ounce of myself so that maybe, just maybe, it would finally be enough and he would be OK.

It wasn't enough, though. Nothing I did was enough.

It wasn't magic that saved him, not from me anyways. It was a small snap behind me, followed by a blinding flash of light. I removed my hands as Castiel began to glow as well, brighter than the sun. I had to shield my eyes, trying my damnedest though to keep watching, to see if he would live. When it all cleared…

The goop was gone. The cracks in his skin were gone, the fever was gone, the sweat coating him was gone, everything… I moved his shirt, looking at where he'd been stabbed.

It was gone too, as though nothing had happened.

I turned back to look at Crowley, who stood surprised, holding a broken lance. "The magic's in the craftsmanship." He muttered, stunned. I stared closer at the wooden hilt, and saw the runes that had been broken when he snapped it.

"Cas?" Dean said, diverting my attention once more back to him. He was… He was fine, looking around at all of us, stunned.

"Oh." Crowley muttered. "You're welcome."

I turned back to look at the demon before he disappeared. "Thank you." I told him quietly. "Thank you." I should've thought of that, breaking the stupid fucking staff. I should've known. I should've figured it out.

But I was too worried about Castiel dying to think of that.

Crowley offered me a small nod, dropping the broken lance pieces as he disappeared. My phone buzzed a second later, and I knew it was him, probably requesting a talk later.

I turned back to Castiel, and my relief was replaced with worry. I… I had made him forget me being alive. I had purposely lied to him and hidden from him, to protect him, yes, but still…

He had come to terms with me being gone, he had accepted it and moved on. What if he didn't want me there anymore? What if he wanted me gone, now that he had accepted that? Hell, what if everyone else wanted me gone as well?

"I…" I wasn't certain what to say. I knew I needed to say something, but… I didn't know. I'm sorry again? I'm so glad you're alive? I missed you? I love you? I still love you? I hope you'll forgive me?

Castiel didn't leave me an option to speak, though. Instead, he leaned forwards, cupping the back of my head firmly as he pulled me in to kiss him.

By God, I had almost forgotten how good his lips felt.

He pulled away, staring deep in to my eyes. "I love you." He said, his voice breathless with… Actual happiness and relief and amazement and wonder and when he looked at me like that, like I was so important to him and I was the one making him feel that happy…

"I'm so sorry." I repeated the words. I wasn't certain what else to say at this point. He just pulled me closer, though, crushing me in his embrace.

"I don't care." He said. "You're here. You're alive. We'll talk about it all later but as for the immediate time, you're alive." He couldn't stop whispering those words. "You're alive. I love you. You're alive."


	22. Castiel's Retcon (3rd POV)

They reached the Bunker safely, without any quarrels. Sam and Dean didn't ask her questions, and even offered to give them space for a few days (on the condition that their questions would be answered when they returned). Mary went off on her own for whatever she needed, and Kylie… She came back with him. She didn't leave. She sat next to him, the whole car ride back, stunned and scared and silent, but not crying.

That night, they shared the same bed out of tiredness and fear, clinging to each other as they laid side by side, not a word spoken because neither knew what to say.

He supposed that this was how Sam and Dean felt when their mother returned. A mixture of emotions, all intertwining with each other without any true clear means of reason or path to expression. Each time he saw her, it was as though he was seeing her again for the first time. He stared at her for long periods of time, he knew. She had even brought it to her attention.

But he couldn't help it. He had gotten used to seeing her gone, and now with her here again… He was afraid that this may be one of his best dreams, the dream of her physically being there with him, and that any given moment he would wake up and once again be disillusioned from it all.

He was afraid to watch her rest, afraid himself to lay down next to her and shut his own eyes. He did not need sleep, that was true, so he didn't. He stayed awake, afraid to leave the same room she inhabited for fear of her disappearing, afraid to touch her for fear of her crumbling away like burnt paper in to the infernos of Hell, just… Just afraid.

Afraid that this Heaven he had been given a piece of may disappear and show that he was in Hell after all; that he had died when he had been stabbed, and this was his eternal torment – being taunted with the possibility, the hope, the belief that she was back and alive and that he hadn't killed her, only to watch it be yanked out from under him again and again and again.

So far, though, that had had yet to happen. She hadn't left or disappeared, and her habit of just, well… Disappearing and reappearing seemed to be shut down, for the moment. If she went somewhere, she told him and took one of the cars ("I have to check in with my superiors, make sure that they're not about to send a manhunt after me and let them know I plan on being away for a few days." "I promised Crowley I'd meet up with him. I'll be back in a few hours, don't worry." "I'm going to go pick up a few groceries, probably beer for the boys. Do you want anything?" "I'll be back in a minute. I just have to make a call."). She was polite. She was quiet. She was…

She was different. That was the biggest thing. This wasn't the same bright and energetic and hopeful and positive woman he had proposed to. This person that stood in her stead, that looked exactly like her… She was quieter. She was more withdrawn, more cautious. More self-conscious in a way that inhibited her choices. Where she would normally smile, and write out a list of everything she intended to get before she borrowed a car or walked she now just left, taking inventory herself and getting what she figured were safe to stock in the fridge (and what she could fit within a large backpack). Where she would sit and read with a small smile on her face, she would float and the fireplace would be alight, acting out whatever it was she read until she realized what was happening. Then she would slam the book shut, the flames extinguished in an instant, as she came back to the ground and put her book away.

Where she would sleep soundly, with that same small smile gracing her features every once in a while, she now didn't rest until four or so in the morning, rising at seven every time to continue what she was doing before resting.

This wasn't the same woman Castiel had met, the same one he had such fond memories of.

But then again, it was her still, wasn't it? It was her smile, just a little different. Her hair, just a new color. Her walk, her voice, her words, just with different tones. It was still her.

It just wasn't the same her. Not anymore.

There were things she wasn't telling him, things she wasn't telling any of them, and he knew it. He hadn't even gotten around to asking her how in the hell she was still alive, much less why she had hidden for so long. She had given out some information on the way – Lucifer had tried to kill her, she'd gone witch to survive, and she'd been trained by Crowley and… And Billie.

The Reaper that Castiel had killed.

From the sound of her voice when she said that, Castiel suspected that she knew of Billie's death. From the way she wouldn't look at him, he knew she was aware that he had killed the Reaper. She didn't say anything on it, though. Castiel didn't say anything either.

There were a lot of things that neither of them were saying. Castiel wanted to tell her she was loved, wanted to tell her that he didn't see the new her any less desirable than the woman he had originally known. He wanted to tell her everything and anything, but there never seemed to be the right words or time to do it.

So instead, they just acted as though they were back as square one, with neither one quite certain as to what to do around the other, but the both of them stumbling and stuttering to try and figure it out.

They were sitting alone, in the Bunker. Dean and Sam had gone out for a food run, and weren't comfortable bringing the both of them out, or being with them, or really… well…

Were Sam and Dean really ever comfortable with anything?

But they decided to leave Kylie and Castiel there, in the Bunker, alone together. Kylie was doing research, and Castiel was…

Castiel wasn't able to take it anymore. He just… He couldn't. He couldn't take the prolonged silences and the watching and standing on eggshells and the pure desire to just… just…

"Kylie," he said her name roughly, a little rougher than he intended. Everything was just so backed up and quiet within his mind, and it was finally starting to bleed out.

She looked up from her typing, a polite expression on her face. "Yes, Castiel?"

"Don't." He started. "Please, just… don't."

"Is something wrong?"

"Don't call me Castiel." He said. "Don't… Don't act as though everything is fine, don't keep that polite expression on your face, don't pretend that there is nothing wrong when we both can clearly see that there are things wrong between us two."

"Well…" She thought for a minute, keeping her voice and expression composed. "What do you think is wrong?"

"This entire situation is wrong!" He exclaimed. "You're here and you're acting as though everything is fine or alright when it's not, not really."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this!" He gestured to her person, uncertain as to what else to do. "I mean your hesitancy and your lack of voice and the way you seem to be so… just… Not you." His anger faded away as he spoke, uncertain as to what best to say.

How could he call her not her, when it was her? Wasn't he just trying to make that point earlier in his head?

"I'm trying to adjust as well, Castiel." She said, her voice soft. "I'm trying to figure out how best to be around you too."

"Don't think about it." He pleaded. "Just… Just be you. Please. I missed you. I want you back, not this…" He struggled to find out how to describe the woman before him. "This… This person that doesn't seem to smile anymore." It was bad, he knew it. It was awful. He just didn't understand how to tell her everything, didn't know how to say he missed her nonsensical chatter somedays, or the way that she was so full of energy that he could see it seeping through her very being, or how she laughed and hummed along to whatever music she was listening to as she worked.

That was what he wanted back. Her, comfortable and happy and so purely her that there was no adjective to describe it, just the pronoun.

She nodded, and offered him a polite smile. Not a real one, just one that she was doing in an attempt to work with what he was asking. "OK."

"And don't…" He took a deep breath. Maybe this would be a step in the right direction. "Don't keep calling me Castiel. It makes me feel as though I am a stranger to you. Please just… at least go back to calling me Cas."

She sat for a while, thinking on that or whatever was on her mind with a faraway look on her eyes. "I'm sorry if I've seemed distant." She finally said. "I'm honestly not certain what to do about this or how to talk with you guys anymore like I used to. On one hand, I want to pretend that nothing has changed and go back to the way things used to be, but on the other hand," she held up one to punctuate her point, and in it she created a small tornado for just a moment before dissipating it. "I'm not the same person I was. Things have changed, and I know that Sam and Dean hate witches and the thought of me being one…" Castiel had to agree in part that the Winchesters were never favorable when it came to witches, but… They hadn't shown any outward disdain and hate. What was she talking about? "But I don't want to hide and disappear again. I missed you too much. I missed all of this." She took a deep breath. "So… I'm sorry, Cas." She offered him a small smile, then, that sly one reminiscent of earlier times, the one that was just her smile.

That was her genuine smile, not the polite one.

That was what made Castiel's heart feel lighter.

"Don't apologize." He said. "Just… Talk with me, instead, if that is alright." At that, her face fell. "I want to know." He pushed, determined to keep this conversation going. "I know it may not all be pleasant. I know that there may be hard things for you to say or me to hear, but I want to know. I want to be here for you, Kylie, not just standing on the outside with so much uncertainty." There, those were the right words. He could feel that they were.

But Kylie just sighed, shaking her head. "There's a lot to tell." She said. "None of it is good, and by the end of it…" She looked down, and shrugged. "I can't guarantee you'll still want me around anymore."

She was nervous. She was afraid. She was… She was tired. There was a large burden within her that she had been bearing for a long time now, and it was crushing her quietly.

Castiel reached across the table, and clasped one of her hands lightly. With his other, he reached around his neck and took off the necklace he wore, her ring the only thing on it. "Kylie," he pressed the ring in to her palm, and she looked up at him with surprise. Not apprehension. Not fear. Just surprise. "I'm not proposing to you again right now." He clarified quickly. "But I do still love you. I want you to keep this," he closed her fingers around it, holding her fist lightly. "And remember that no matter what has transpired or what will come, this still is yours, because I my feelings for you have not lessened, no matter how much I wished some days that they would when I believed you to be…" He couldn't say the word. Not with her right in front of him and alive. "Gone." He substituted. "And they will not lessen, no matter the consequences."

He withdrew his hands, and stood from his chair. Kylie just sat there, looking from him to her closed fist in wonder and amazement. "I… I… Cas…" She was stuttering slightly, and he couldn't help but smile. It was the same stutter she used when she was flustered.

"You may be a different person, now." He amended. "But you're still the same person I love." He walked away, then, headed towards the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Her voice called after him, almost frantic, as he heard her footsteps follow.

"I'm going to get you some tea." He answered, turning. She still held the ring in a clasped fist, still looked unbelievably surprised. "You look as though you need some."

"OK." She said, smiling a different smile now. Her quiet one, the one that expressed shy happiness. She took her fist, opening it to gaze at the necklace inside. Castiel turned around, walking back to the kitchen so that he could make them both tea.

When he returned, she was wearing the necklace, with the ring tucked under her shirt as he had worn it. He couldn't help but smile at the progress, setting the tea down in front of her.

"What do you want to know?" She asked. Castiel thought for a moment, choosing his first question carefully.

"How are you doing?" He decided. Kylie had been taking a sip of her tea, but she couldn't hold back the small amount of laughter that escaped her lips at his question.

"It's been so long, and that's what you ask?" She laughed with the question, as though she couldn't believe him but was happy for the fact. "How am I doing?"

"It's the same question you used to ask me for a very long time." He reminded her. "I thought it was only fair I ask you the same."

"I… I'm doing OK, I guess." She said. "I've been doing really well with the Men of Letters in London, actually."

"You've been working with them?"

"Yeah."

"How long?"

"A few months." She explained. "Before that I was living with Mrs. Tran. I went to college. I… I tried the normal life thing."

"Did you try to be a therapist?"

"I was just trying to figure myself out, I guess." She said. "I took a psych class, though. That was fun."

"What…" He thought about his next question. "How come you hid for so long?"

"I was scared, I guess." She said. "I was absolutely terrified. Lucifer was wearing you like a tuxedo and Amara was looking deadlier and deadlier by the minute and when Sam blamed me for killing Dean…" She shook her head, but Castiel felt confused. He remembered Lucifer, and Amara, but when had Sam blamed her for anything?

"What do you mean, Sam thought you killed Dean?" He asked. Kylie stopped, taking a deep breath.

"There…" She sighed. "There are a lot of things you don't remember."

"Why?"

"Because I made you forget." She admitted. "I was scared that you would start to hate me for who I became, like Sam already did, and I would have to watch that happen, so I did the one thing I could think to do. I preserved your better memories of me, and made you and Sam and Dean and Rowena think I was still dead." She put a hand on his head, and it was as though he'd been electrocuted.

 _In an instant, he was back in his memories, watching Kylie through Lucifer's eyes. She was disguised as Diana, and neither of them knew it was her just yet. Working with Metatron to free them and get them out of there. She seemed colder then, harder, but just as focused as she always was. Lucifer wasn't happy about needed to be rescued by a former vessel, a prophet, a random witch, and the scrappy human scribe. He'd thought she was useful for getting him freed, but useless when it came to the getaway plan._

 _When Lucifer had seen how close Diana looked to God, he felt jealousy and rage, more so when he refused to answer to her involvement._

 _He'd thought it was interesting, though, how she seemed to get along with both Rowena and Crowley, when the pair alone absolutely loathed each other._

 _And then Lucifer was gone, but Castiel remained. She… She was there. I heard a scream in my delirium, and when I looked over saw Diana… But it wasn't Diana, of course. It was Kylie. Or, at least, it looked like her. He could… He could see both of them, side by side, like a distorted mirror._

 _He couldn't tell who the scream was coming from, in all honesty. It resonated in his ears for a long time before fading out, along with his consciousness._

 _When he came to, though, all he saw was a woman, leaning up against a strut, slumped like a broken doll. Her hair fell in her face in waves, and one of her arms was splayed out before her as limp as the rest of her. Castiel ran to check on her, first – to check her vitals._

 _When he moved the hair from her face, though, he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe it was her. He almost wanted to cry in relief and happiness, but he couldn't because she still wasn't awake. She still… She wasn't moving. He couldn't even tell if she was breathing._

 _He could see the outline of the Mark pulse faintly under the skin of her arm before disappearing altogether. She must've offered to take the Mark on instead of Sam. She offered to sacrifice herself and everything, so that they wouldn't have to._

 _"Dammit, Kylie." He muttered, shaking his head. Why did she always have to do things like this? He put a hand to the back of her head, and felt blood. She must've hit it against the strut when she fell. He healed it easily, thankful that he could do something to help her already._

 _But she still wasn't waking up. She had to wake up. He could feel she was alive, now, but… She just wasn't waking up. She was barely breathing. She was…_

 _She was alive, but in the moment she felt as cold as death. He grabbed her hand, the outstretched one, making sure that he could feel her pulse under my fingers, and it was there that he saw it._

 _Castiel saw the engagement ring that he had given her, still shining brightly on her finger. She had kept it. Throughout everything, she had kept it._

 _"Kylie," Cas said her name with such sorrow. He felt guilty. He had done… So much to hurt her. He had freed Lucifer. He had caused her to be cast out, and somehow, she had survived. He hadn't even looked for her, he had just assumed she was dead, that Lucifer had killed her._

 _But here she was, alive, and still wearing that ring._

 _Castiel shook her, suddenly desperate. She had to wake up. She had to stay alive. He wouldn't let her die. He wouldn't fail her like that. "Kylie, please get up." He begged. "Please wake up."_

 _He wanted to apologize, to hold her close and never let her go. But he couldn't do that, not to an unconscious person. Those were things that needed to be said and done with her, awake and alive and…_

 _Did she even still love him?_

 _Did she even still want him to be here like this?_

 _Cas was so enraptured in his thoughts, he almost missed her speak. "Five more minutes." She requested, her voice sleepy as she began to stir._

 _"She's alive!" He shouted, more for myself than for Sam or Dean. he couldn't believe it, she was here. She was breathing. She was awake._

 _She was alive. Kylie Dillinger was alive._

 _When she opened her eyes, though, his heart broke in two. The second she recognized him, she put as much distance as possible between herself and him._

 _"No, no, Kylie!" Cas spoke fast, realizing her fear. She didn't know it was him. She looked at Castiel… And she saw Lucifer. I kneeled before her, putting out a single hand. "It's me. It's Cas."_

 _"Castiel?" She asked, sounding hopeful. I nodded, hoping she would believe me, and watched as she examined me for what felt like an eternity before she saw it was, indeed, me._

 _"Lucifer," she started to ask, her voice shaky._

 _"Amara expelled him from me." I explained._

 _"Amara was going back in the cage." She argued, shaking her head. "The Mark, it was being put on my arm," As if to prove her point, she looked down at where the branding had been. When it wasn't there, she looked back at me, and I could see the terror on her face. I hung my head in shame. Everything we had done had been for naught._

 _"We failed."_

 _"Is Chuck OK?" She asked, trying to stand. She was doing what she always did, her best to try and keep moving even though the situation was grim. She can't fix the failure, so she moves on to assess the damages and current outcomes. She almost succeeded in standing, too, but didn't quite make it. She fell back to the ground, groaning in pain as she looked about to lose her lunch. I stayed down next to her, uncertain as to what to do to be helpful._

 _They argued, and I watched, marveling at the fact that she was alive, as well as the differences in who she was now. This wasn't the same Kylie I thought I had watched died. I could see it in the way she stood, the way she walked, the way she held herself. The Kylie I had known before wouldn't have that solemn look on her face, the one of knowing and certainty that this was the end, but she wasn't going to go down without a fight. The feeling was the same, I wouldn't expect anything less from her, but…_

 _There was no fear. No concern. Just grim determination._

 _It was the same look I'd seen in Dean and Sam's eyes so often, the same look I'd always feared seeing in her own eyes; the look that showed she was more than willing to run headlong in to a suicide mission, fully aware that it would kill her and simply not caring. The ends would justify the suicide, in her mind._

 _I wasn't certain what to do. I felt as though I should be comforting her, telling her we would find a way, but she looked like stone. If anything, she may be the one holding me up in the end. And the look in her eyes when she realized I wasn't Lucifer… That wasn't happiness. That wasn't hope. That wasn't anything I would expect from seeing us re-unite. It was… Factual. Acknowledgement, assessment, and application. What facts were in front of her, what they meant, and how she could use them to continue moving forwards._

 _I remembered that same look myself when I first came down to Earth, that same method of approach to dealing with situations before I… Before I understood what humanity was._

 _This wasn't the same Kylie. She had died, and a new one was in her stead, one that had made the choice to become a powerful witch, and combat the Darkness with her powers.._

 _When Rowena and Crowley came in, I looked up and saw Crowley watching her as well, actual concern coloring his face. It made me feel jealousy to see that. He'd known. He'd known this whole time that she was alive. They'd been together, hiding or planning or something._

 _For a moment, I wondered if something between them had occurred._

 _I forced the thought out of my head, and looked up at what everyone else was looking at. That was when I fully understood the ramifications of what was going on._

 _Kylie was alive, and she was about to die again. We were all going to die, with God, because the world was about to end._

 _Sam and Dean were so angry with her, so confused and worried and going about it in all the wrong ways. "You left us. You abandoned us with Lucifer and the Darkness, and for what?" Dean asked, fury in his voice. "How could you keep that from us, keep you being alive from us?"_

 _"Yeah, and what happened last time I pulled a Lazarus?" She asked in response. Cas couldn't help but wince at that. "I show up to what? A demon in the closet, an angel bragging about a bang-and-kill, and you, telling me I can't stay."_

 _"You know why we had to that." Dean argued. "And why I had to have you AND CAS leave."_

 _"You think I'm done?" She challenged him. "Let's keep going through the history, shall we? Let's look at who almost threw me out a second time for using magic to try and find you plus keep him and Cas safe and healthy."_

 _"Now hold on," Sam tried to interrupt, but Kylie waved a him off._

 _"And you know what I did?" She asked them. "I did the exact same thing you two do every single time – I chose life!" The words came out as a shout as she stood, full of fury herself. "I saw Lucifer for Lucifer before either of you did, and he tried to kill me because I wouldn't betray you two. I got sent to the FUCKING ARCTIC CIRLE, boys, and I was going to DIE if I didn't do SOMETHING. So now you tell me, would have rather me given up and DIE," She looked at each of them in turn, the fire never leaving her eyes. "Or live, like I did, so I could do everything I could to try and help you guys?" Castiel knew what he wanted to say, but he was too stunned by her words. She… she had gone through so much, and she fully believed that they hated her for it._

 _His silence was misunderstood, though, and she shook her head. "Unbelievable." She turned to him, then, her voice quieter but still just as angry. "And you chose Lucifer. You asked me to move in with you, to marry you and spend a life together with you. You promised me a life together, but you know what?"_

 _"Don't." He begged, his voice quiet. He didn't want to hear the rest. He didn't want a reminder of his failures. He didn't want her to say she was through with him, that she hated him and didn't want him around and that he had made the worst mistake he could have possibly committed._

 _"The apartment is gone, Castiel," She told him, and he felt his heart sink even deeper. "Everything is gone. And I remember how much you hated me using magic, too. I remember the fury when you found out that I saved you, that I would've sacrificed myself to keep you alive. Now look at me!" She raised a hand, and the page she had been working on burnt to ash. Castiel stared at it in shock. She had never done anything like that before, never just recklessly destroyed something to prove a point. "I am the thing that you hated," she hissed, and he could tell that she believed those words herself even. "I'm the monster you two would put down without a second's thought, aren't I?"_

 _She thought she was abhorred for her decisions, that they had been wasted for nothing, and that all she deserved now was what Sam and Dean did best – a bullet put between her eyes._

 _His heart shattered completely when she put the ring back in his hand, her actions softer now. She felt bad for what she'd done, felt ashamed, felt even more like that monster she was so certain that we all saw her as._

 _But she didn't stop. She didn't give up. She didn't want the world to end. When he and Dean came back, she was still working out ideas, still thinking and tinkering away with that same determination he had seen in her, the same kind of focus and drive that never left her if she was adamant on attempting to fight her own goliath._

 _Dean had given him advice, in the car ride. "She's confused. She's scared. We all are. We're just… we're trying. I handled it bad, I know I did, but… Look man, this is the end of the world. If she wants to end it with grudges, let her end it with grudges, but I honestly don't think that's the case. I think she just… She just wants someone to tell her it's OK, that the sacrifice wasn't for nothing." He chuckled a little. "Remember when the Apocalypse was our biggest problem?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"And do you remember when I was ready to throw in the towel, to say yes to Michael just so it would all be over?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"Do you remember what you did?" Castiel did, vividly._

 _"I…" He looked away, smiling though he was slightly abashed. "I believe the phrase is: 'I kicked your ass.'" Dean laughed out loud at that._

 _"Yeah. Yeah you did. And I deserved it." He nodded. "What she did in there, that explosion, it reminded me of that. She just sacrificed everything she believed in, she worked with Crowley of all people, and there are a lot of things about herself that she's questioning now. I didn't help. Sam didn't help. We're all just very, very, very terrified." He sighed. "Kylie's just the only one that finally let it show."_

 _"So… What should I do?"_

 _"Let her know that you're still here for her." He said. "But don't push her. Don't say anything like that you forgive her when she hasn't apologized, that'll just make things worse, and in all honesty she doesn't have a lot to apologize for. She's gone through a lot, lost about as much in a few years as me and Sam have throughout our lifetime. Just… Give her space, and give her time." He concluded. "Let her know you're here, but let her figure out what she wants on her own as well."_

 _"How do I do that?"_

 _"Start with something small." He said. "Offer to help her with her work. Bring her some tea. Tell her you're not angry and that you understand, but let her guide how things go." He stopped, seeing his phone was ringing. "Gimme a sec. It's Sam."_

 _And Sam, who was just as scared as everyone else, finally lashing out himself. Blaming Kylie, but not really. He just… He didn't want his brother to die. He had offered himself for the Mark of Cain, done what he could, but it hadn't mattered. His brother was still dying for them. He was still losing the only blood relative he had left._

 _He lashed out because he was scared to be alone._

 _Castiel tried to mediate this, tried to do what Dean had told him. "Kylie," he caught her hand, for a moment happy at the reminder that she was physical and real. "Wait, just… Wait."_

 _"What's up?" She asked._

 _"I can't keep this." He pulled the ring back out of his pocket. She shook her head, but he was determined for her to keep it. "I love you, and I'm not going to stop. I don't care that you're a witch, I don't care what you chose, and I understand why you said what you did. But I can't just give up. I thought I'd lost you, Kylie." He took her hand gently, as though it would break any moment, and placed the ring in her palm. "I'm not asking for you to agree to marry me again. All I'm asking is that you… Don't cut me out from your life. I told you, a life without you, to me, isn't one worth being in. I understand if that's not what you want, but I wanted to at least try." He wanted her to say yes again, say that she would at least keep it. When she pushed it back towards him, he kept up the same smile. "I gave that to you, willingly. I will always be here for you, if you will allow me to do so." He said. "Please, keep it, as a reminder."_

 _Then he took a sip of his beer, and it was as though she was never there._


	23. Sorting Things Out

I watched Castiel recoiled in his seat, taking a few breaths as he sifted through the memories and let them fully integrate themselves in his consciousness. "Why… Why would you make me forget?" He finally asked. He didn't sound angry, which was good. He just sounded confused.

"I was still scared." I admitted. "And I didn't want you to come to see me as a monster. I figured that if I just had you remember a dead fiancée," I shook my head. "It was a stupid decision, but Sam hated me and I thought I had just sent Dean to be a suicide bomber and I was so certain that the only thing I had left was to watch you grow to hate me too." There it was, all out in the open. Why I had made my choice. Why I hadn't come forwards till now. "But if you can't forgive me for what I did, I understand." I said, lowering my head. "It was absolutely stupid and a complete violation of your rights and I just assumed that things wouldn't work out and I hated myself every day for, well, a lot of reasons." I felt like such an idiot, but I hadn't known what else to do at the time. I had just been…

Scared.

But scared wasn't an excuse for what I'd done.

Castiel didn't say anything, just sat there, thinking. I couldn't do it, though. I couldn't sit there and wait for the anger.

But I didn't know whether or not it would be anger. Assuming had gotten me in to this mess the last time, and I didn't want to do it again. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "If you want me to leave, or… hate me now for the choice I made, I won't hold it against you." I said. "I'll return Sam and Dean's memories to them and I'll leave. You…" I sighed, my head sinking lower. "You won't have to see me again, if you don't want."

"Why would I want that?" He finally spoke, making me raise my head. He sounded almost outraged by the thought. "I thought you were dead. I thought I killed you. I…" He scrubbed his hand down his face for a moment. "Kylie, I agonized every day over what I believed to be a fact, that I had been the cause of your death. I spoke to your grave. I cried and apologized and blindly chased down Lucifer because I wasn't certain how else to live with what I thought I had done? Everything I told you about moving on, and trying to 'get over' you?" He asked, shaking his head. "I believe the word you would use is 'bullshit.' Complete and utter bullshit. I could never get over you, Kylie." He reached across the table, grasping my hands tightly. "I love you. I have never been in love before, but it is such a powerful emotion within me that I know I will never feel a love like this again."

I started crying as he kept speaking, not out of sorrow though – out of genuine relief and happiness. "I'm not angry or upset at what you did. I forgive you for it entirely, because it doesn't matter to me. You made a choice, yes. It is one I wish you hadn't chosen, also yes." He pursed his lips for a second, his head tilting in that way that only he could. "But you still made it, and you made it not out of hate or anger or spite, but out of fear and what I'm certain were good intentions. It's not something that we can change, only something we can move forwards with." I shook my head, unable to believe what I was hearing.

"How can you forgive me?" I asked. "I… I messed with your head. I let you believe I was dead."

"I could've asked you the same thing, so many times." He responded. "How could you have forgiven me for leaving you alone and in danger for years? How could you have forgiven me for not being able to save you? How could you have forgiven me for being such a fool, for attacking you and leaving you and just…" He paused, looking at his own hands for a moment. "I've made so many mistakes, I have failed so many times… failed you more than many would've been willing to put up with. So, if you can forgive me through all of that…" He smiled, kind and happy and earnest as he looked at me. "Then I can forgive you of altering my memories."

"Thank you." It came out as a whisper, and I could feel more tears falling. I pulled one of my hands away, looking down to wipe at my eyes. "Sorry. You know how much I hate doing this." I muttered, shaking my head. Castiel was patient, though, and waited until I was done.

"So, what else do you want to know?" I finally asked, once I was certain my voice was mostly normal. Castiel didn't miss a beat with the question he asked me.

"What's your favorite spell?"

"What?"

"You use magic." He stated. "And you're quite good at it. What's your favorite sort of spell or charm?" I thought about it, remembering an exercise I had created for myself when I was still training.

"Watch this." I said, looking over at the books. I could see the nonfictions, just barely. I focused hard, summoning an easy one. _Alice in Wonderland._

I withdrew my other hand from Castiel's own to catch said book, handing it to him afterwards. "Pick a page." I offered. He went along with it, skimming a few different sections before finally handing it to me. I glanced over it myself. It was the part about the carpenter and the walrus and the oysters. This would be easy.

I pushed my chair back, and did my best to sit criss-cross in it as I read aloud from the book. As I did, I could just… feel it coming to life, in front of me with flames of my own creation. Once I was done, I settled back comfortably in my chair, and sent the book back to it's place in the stacks as Castiel continued to watch the flames that still hovered in front of me. They had changed now, though. Instead of telling more stories, they had changed to form his face, smiling back at him. With a flick of my wrist, they changed in to a pair of wings that flew high up to the ceiling before exploding in to sparks. Castiel's gaze slowly moved from the show to me again.

"Fire is my favorite in general." I admitted. "I kinda like being able to take something that's considered destructive and just make it not, you know?"

"It's wonderful." He complimented. "It's absolutely wonderful."

We talked for hours, just learning what the other had been doing. I learned about his search for Kelly that had yet to prove itself fruitful, his attempts in hunting, exactly how much he had loathed working with Crowley, and what he called "things that he had never told me but had promised he would if I was still alive," (his words, not mine, but each word that came from him was as kind as he always was). He was even up front about Billie and what happened, which hurt to talk about, but was a good thing to work through. In turn, I told him as much as I could about my work with the Men of Letters and what I'd done in London, how I came to be a witch now, and about, well, everything.

"So…" He furrowed his brows. "You had a hellhound… for a pet?" He'd seen Karma, I knew, but it was still confusing to him.

"Yeah." I couldn't help but feel sorrowful at that. "She… She's dead now. Ramiel got her."

"I'm sorry."

"She was a good girl." I responded. "She did exactly as she was supposed to, and defended us." I didn't really want to say much more on it. Karma was dead. There wasn't much of a point in saying more.

"And your… abilities…" He thought for a second. "They stem partially from the angelic grace inside of you? The one I detected that was mine?"

"Yes," I needed to ask. I had to tell him. I had to know, to open up the last box. "But there's a catch I learned that comes with it." Castiel watched my face, understanding.

"You met Lily Sunders." He said. "You know what the effects of using angelic magic are on a human."

"Yeah." I nodded with it. "I just… I don't know what to do with it. I haven't… looked, to see if it's killing my soul or not. I've been afraid to, and it's not exactly something I can do on my own. I want you to do it." I said the words rushed, but I was proud of myself for saying them. "I need to know the truth. I need to know so that I can be aware of what I'm doing."

"You want me to touch your soul." He said. I nodded.

"I want to know what it's doing to me, and what the consequences of me… being me… are."

"You…" He thought more. "You like what you do, don't you? You like the magic, and what you can do with it." I nodded.

"I feel good about it." I explained. "I feel like I'm finally making a difference, and a good one, like I'm finally not just a useless human anymore. If I can keep doing what I'm doing…" I smiled a little. "I'm doing good things for good people, but if it's going to turn me in to a soulless monster…" I shook my head. "I need to know. I can't hide from my fears forever."

Castiel sat for a while, thinking about this. "You want me to look at your soul," he summarized. "To see whether or not the choice you made is hurting you."

"I need to know the consequences of my actions." I decided, my voice firm.

"Kylie, if I do this, it's going to hurt." He said. "And I don't want to hurt you. I don't ever want to hurt you."

"Just do it." I said.

"But it's my grace that is in you."

"So?"

"So… What if my grace is hurting you?" He asked. "I feel as though… I'm still hurting you."

"I made my choice." I argued. "I didn't know what would happen, but I made my choices, and I don't think that you've hurt me in any way from my own decisions. And if," I gulped a little. "If it's tearing away pieces of my soul, which we don't know for sure and won't know until we look, then… We'll figure it out from there."

"You really want this, don't you?" I nodded.

"I'm tired of hiding from possibilities that scare me." I stated. "It's time I bucked up." Castiel paused for a few moments before nodding.

"Before I do this, I want to ask a question first." He said. I could agree to that. "What do we do now? With us, I mean. I… I still love you, and I'd like to believe that you feel the same for me."

"I think…" I shook my head. "I don't want to rush back in to anything. I love you," that seemed to make him look a little relieved. "But a lot of things have changed. We both have changed. I think it would be a bad idea if we just pretended nothing HAD changed and tried to go back to the way things were, you know?"

"So what do we do?" I looked at him when he said that, someone I used to know completely and utterly, without any doubts as to whether I would be right or not. I used to know him so well…

Then again, he could probably say the same thing for me.

"I still want you in my life." I said. "And if it's alright, I think I'd like to get to know who you are now."

"I'm not that different from who I was."

"But I still am." I responded. "I'm not at all the same person that you knew." He cocked his head to the side, raising his hand slowly to run his fingers down my face.

"Your eyes are the same." He said. "But you are right, you have changed in many ways. I can see the reasoning in not just continuing where we left off."

"Is it alright if we start small?" I asked. "Tea and a hunt or something? Just… feel the waters, see what happens?" Castiel smiled at that.

"For you, and the chance to be around you again, I would agree to anything." He answered. I let out a sigh of relief. I had been so certain, for so long, that he would see me like this and decide I wasn't worth anything anymore; that I wasn't a person he could be around or love anymore. But here, now…

Castiel had changed. He had grown a little.

An angel, something that's supposed to be immortal and eternal and unaltering, changing over time. Isn't life grand?

"Thank you." I said, taking a deep breath. I stood, squaring my shoulders. "OK. Let's get it over with now, and then we can move on to something else."

"Are you absolutely certain that this is what you want?" Castiel asked, rising as well. I shrugged.

"I don't want it, but I need to know anyways." I answered. He loosened his tie, handing it to me. I stared at it for a second.

"This… will hurt more than you think." He said. I understood immediately, and folded up the article until it was thick enough to bite down on and muffle a scream. I stared at the tie, pursing my lips a little before I spoke.

"You ready?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Are you?"

"Fair enough." I took one last deep breath, then shoved the makeshift gag into my mouth. Cas didn't waste time either, for his credit. He gave me one more bittersweet smile, putting one hand in to my hair. With the other…

It hurt less than a witchbag, I'll give it that much, but only by the smallest of margins. I howled in pain against the cloth in my mouth, clenching my fists in to tight balls as I fought to not react with magic.

But the second it started, it was over, and Castiel was helping take his tie out of my mouth. I coughed a little, shaking my head. "Remind me to never ask about doing that again." I muttered, wiping a hand across my forehead. I was surprised to see the sweat that coated it when I removed said hand. Cas pushed a stray strand of hair from my face, not quite meeting my eyes just yet. "What did you learn?" I asked.

"Your soul…" He focused from the hair to me. "It's complete, but made of two separate parts."

"What does that mean?"

"The angel grace has bonded completely with you." He explained. "As long as there is a small part of it inside of you, you will never die, your body will age at an extremely slower rate if at all, and by almost all rights and definitions, you should technically be considered a… a Nephilim."

"But I'm not." I furrowed my brows at that. "I wasn't born like this, it just kind of happened and… you said almost." I wasn't certain how to feel about that. "What's the almost?"

"It may be bonded with you," he explained. "But it can also still be removed from you. If that happens, a part of your soul really will be missing, then. You will become fully human, and any other side effects would be indeterminate until that point."

"So what you're saying is, if I lose the grace, I'll die."

"No, I don't know what would happen." He responded. "Just nothing good."

"As long as it's not killing me now," I said, pushing a smile on to my face. "Then I think I can live with being mostly immortal."

"Kylie, you still don't understand." He said. "You could easily be considered Nephilim. My brothers… They would kill you if they made that distinction."

"But why?" I shook my head. "Nephilim, they aren't bad. They're just people."

"The oldest laws in Heaven mandate it." He responded. "A Nephilim is too powerful. It can wreak havoc and destruction on worlds. They are supposed to be killed on site."

"So… what's going to happen to me then?"

"Nothing." Castiel's voice was firm and determined. "Nothing is going to happen to you. I will not allow them to do anything."

"Cas, if it comes to it," I started to stay, but he cut me off quickly.

"There was a time when you asked me to not request that we prepare for a life without each other," he said. "And I've already had to experience what that life would be like. Do not try and tell me that it would be an alright way to live. Do not tell me to stand passively by." He shook his head. "I can't… I'm not strong enough to do it again. I can't do it again."

"OK." I said. "Then I just won't die." I said the words quite simply, as if I hadn't already died once and a half, if you counted everyone THINKING I was dead. "I think that sounds agreeable, don't you?" Cas looked almost surprised at how calmly I said the words. I shrugged. "What? If all I have to do is not die, then I just won't die."

"You make it sound quite easy," he commented. "As though humans are not so fragile."

"Says the angel that has died how many times, exactly?" I countered. He looked away, maybe just a little embarrassed by my point. "Yeah. I've got one and a half in comparison to your, what, at least 3 times?" I smiled. "I may be halfway there, but for a human I've still proven myself to be pretty damn resourceful."

He shook his head, smiling a little himself as he turned back to look at me. "I missed you." He finally said. "So, so much."

"I missed you too." I replied.


	24. Family Isn't Always Easy

Dean and Sam came back a day or so later, and we talked. Castiel was there beside me when I gave them back their memories, and waited for the flurry of questions to start.

Sam was the one who spoke first. "You…" He stopped for a second. "I…"

"I'm sorry." I said. "I should never have done this to you both in the first place."

"I was an ass." Sam responded, looking over at his brother. "You were too. And you…" Sam stared back at me.

"You worked with Crowley to help us." Dean stated. "You hate Crowley."

"Hated." I corrected. "Now I kind of work with him. He's… A partner I guess." I shrugged.

"And, what, you just decided that we would be better off without you?" Dean asked.

"Dean," Castiel's voice was cautioning, but Dean kept going.

"How could you think that?!" He asked. "We grieved you. We called Mrs. Tran and to tell her you were dead. Kylie," he shook his head. "How could you think that?"

"Look at your own memories." I said. "I thought I wasn't wanted."

"You're our family." Sam said. "You've saved us before and helped us and gotten us farther than we would've been on our own. Of course we want you here."

"I'll be honest, you as a witch isn't exactly something that will be easy to get used to," Dean admitted. "But you're here. You're using it to help fight the good fight. Hell, I met a brother and sister witch that use their stuff to hunt. Why should I think you can't do the same?"

"You…" I had been hoping for an outcome like this, but hadn't actually expected it. "You're not mad?"

"I'm not happy with the whole Bourne Identity moment," Dean said. That was understandable. "But at the same time, Sammy's right." He clapped his brother on the shoulder. "We're family. And at this point, that kind of just means accepting what's coming, I think." I let out a huge sigh of relief, running to give both of them a hug.

I had my family again.

Sam clapped me on the back, whereas as Dean gave a gruff "yeah, yeah, no chick flick moments here," before doing the same. I laughed after I pulled away, smiling at the both of them. "So," Sam said, putting his hands out palms up, as if giving me the floor. "What have you been up to recently, I guess?"

"Where do you want me to start?"

"After Amara." Dean decided. "What were you doing then?"

"I… I thought you were dead," I pointed at Dean with that. "So I kind of ran off, hid. I promised Kevin I'd tell his mom he went to Heaven, and I told her I was still alive. She took me in and helped me go to college."

"You went to college?" Sam asked. I nodded.

"Flathead Valley Community College," I raised a hand up in a small fist for a second. "Go Eagles."

"Why college?" Dean asked.

"I wanted to experience what life was like, real life outside of hunting." I explained. "Mrs. Tran helped me figure things out and get in. I was just trying to see what it would be like, in a normal life." I hung my head a little bit. "I wish Mrs. Tran was here. She was rooting for me to come back, I think."

"What happened to her?" Sam's question.

"Car crash." I stated, my voice hollow. "While we were after Lucifer. I didn't hear about it until it was too late." I smiled a little bit. "She's in heaven, with Kevin."

"That's good." Sam agreed. "All of that is good and… strangely normal." He thought for a moment. "Why did you stop?"

"Crowley called." I laughed. "Actually, he showed up in the middle of one of my psychology classes. Told me I was wasting my time and talent there and enlisted me to help find Lucifer. He was the one that told me you were alive." I looked over at Dean. "I'm really glad that that ended up being the case, by the way."

"Yeah, me too." He agreed. "So Crowley calls on you to find Lucifer, and you do," I nodded. "And, what? You just abandon college?"

"No." I shook my head. "I stayed with Crowley for a little bit, trying to help him. That's how I had Karma," I hung my head for a minute. "She was a gift from Crowley, since I'd come back to help him. It was kind of nice, having her, but it was just more proof I refused to see that trying to live a normal life wasn't quite in the cards for me." I took a small breath. "I finished out the semester, if that's what you were wondering. Split from Crowley after he joined up with Cas, and tried to go back and to things normally." I remembered that lack of control I'd had, when I'd gone back again. "Then Tommy called, and after that, I was kind of in. Lucifer knew me, knew my aliases, and I doubt would've left me be after I tried to go after him twice. Then when he gave me up…" They knew parts of the rest. Nobody said anything for a bit, but from the looks on Dean and Sam's faces, they weren't proud of themselves.

"We weren't certain what to think." Sam tried. "We had just gone through almost a year of thinking you were dead, and then seeing you there, in front of us, so different… You looked like an actual witch for a moment, full of a lot of mojo. You zapped Cas and Kelly away like it was nothing, just going around like it was all normal, and," he wasn't certain how to continue from there, but Dean was.

"We didn't know who or what you were, for a moment." Dean clarified. "All we knew was that you had been dead for a year, and that as far as we knew you wouldn't try to hide from us if that was wrong. We didn't know or remember. We just…"

"We didn't handle it well." Sam finished. "We acted like assholes and pointed guns at you when we should've been happy to see you, even if you'd been hiding from us for a while."

"So what were you doing after that?" Dean asked. "More hiding? More buddy/buddy team-up with Crowley?"

"Not quite." This was where I had to be careful. I knew that Sam and Dean didn't know about their mother's involvement with the Men of Letters, as well as why (Mary had explained their disdain for the group to me). I hadn't told Cas about Mary's work either, I'd promised her it would be her job to say. "If I tell you, you have to promise to be more open-minded about it."

"What's up?" Sam asked. I pursed my lips together, taking a glance over at Cas. He had taken it extremely well. Maybe Sam and Dean would too.

"I've been working." I said. "For the Men of Letters."

Instantly, their faces soured. "No." Dean said, shaking his head. "There's no way. Not those douche-wads."

"Kylie," Sam's hands fell hard on to his lap. "Do you know what kinds of people they are? Do you know what they do?"

"They gave me a home." I said. "When you guys held guns up to me. They gave me somewhere I could continue to learn and grow, when you guys would've rather me stopped altogether. Do you know what abstaining from magic does to me?" I remembered the scratches. Deep. Ugly. Painful. Cutting themselves in to my skin of their own volition. "It's like having a bomb inside of me. If I don't keep up and let the energy out, it'll kill me." I hadn't told Castiel that part. He looked surprised, if not a little angry himself. "The Men of Letters offered me the chance to do that, and keep getting better. I can protect people now. I can heal them. I've done amazing things you wouldn't have even imagined!" I put my hand on the table, pushing out images and memories. Playing catch with Karma. Upgrading wardings. Trapping and moving the nuckelavee. Just… everything I'd gotten better at through my short time in London.

Each memory appeared on the table, through my point of view, and the brothers watched. They watched me smile as T.J. pulled a candle out of a ball of water, still lit. They watched as I went around testing for flaws in their security. They watched as I enjoyed every aspect of my work.

I pulled my hand away, and the memories faded from the table. "I couldn't do that a few months ago." I said. "I couldn't do anything you two saw without their help."

"That doesn't change the fact that they're monsters. Have you seen what they do people?" Sam rolled up the side of his shirt, showing me burn marks I hadn't ever seen before etched in to where each rib would be. They were long, and those scars would never heal. "Toni Bevell's work." He explained.

"Bevell is a bitch and a monster," I agreed. "But she is not like the rest of them. I work with Ketch and Mick one-on-one, and they're some of the kindest and most devoted people I've met." Ketch was smart, single-minded in his work, whereas Mick was intelligent and always seeking out every last bit of information he could to aid him.

In all honesty, they almost mirrored Sam and Dean.

"They're good people." I said. "They took me in, just like you two did, when I had nowhere else to go."

"You could've come home." Dean stated. "You have a family, right here. You have Cas." I let out a short snort of air.

"Try telling that to the guns I had pointed at me." I responded. "And the hatred that you two consistently responded with." They didn't respond. "Now, I'm doing good work. I actually have some of that work I need to get back to," it was true. I'd been gone for longer than I should've. I needed to get back to Project V. I could see Cas look visibly startled at the mention of me leaving. "But it's good work."

"If it's so good, why can't you tell us?" Sam asked.

"It's protocol to not share sensitive information with anyone who is not directly involved." I responded. "They have a knack for secrecy too, you know."

"Yeah." Dean scoffed. "So do you. Seems like you fit in just fine."

"Dean," Cas interjected, his voice holding a note of caution.

"What? How can you accept this?" He asked in response, motioning to me. "She's working with the guys that beat our asses, that SHOT and TORTURED Sam."

"Because it's those same guys that helped us defeat Lucifer and helped me find the two of you." He responded. "And because Kylie is alive, Dean. You have done anything and everything to get your brother back, the both of you have." Castiel looked between the two of them. "And you would throw Kylie out for doing what she could to survive and find a home again."

"We're gonna need time." Dean finally said. "To process all of this. Kylie being back and… working for the Brits."

"Are you saying you want me to go again?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, that's not what we're saying." Sam said. "What we're saying is that we just need time to comprehend these new changes and just sort through all these memories we just got."

"We're saying we need time." Dean stated. "That's all. We just need time."

"How long do you need?" I wanted to ask that question, but Castiel beat me to the punch. He stood firm beside me, as stoic and strong as, well, an avenging angel.

"We don't know, Cas." Dean said. "Just… time." I nodded.

"I think I'm gonna go, then." I said. "I… I guess I'll take some time to think too, keep working."

"No." Cas argued. "Nobody is going anywhere." He looked around at all of us. "You are all my family. You are all people that I care about, and you're leaving each other?" He looked appalled by the idea. "You're finally all together, and you're just going to throw it all away?"

"We're not doing that, Cas." I assured him, putting a comforting hand on his arm. "We're just… Adjusting, I guess." I took a glance over at Sam and Dean. "To a lot of things."

I composed myself, hiding any anger or hurt. They knew I was alive. They knew I was working with the Men of Letters. They knew as much as I could tell them. I just had to hope that they would come around and that, well…

Like Cas said, we were a family too. I just wanted my family back. My whole family.

I didn't really bring anything with me when I came, so I had nothing to take when I left. I walked outside, retaining a small shred of being a little less, well, witchy.

 _It's not the witch they have a problem with, though._ I could almost hear my mom's voice speaking reason in the back of my head. _It's what you're doing with it and for whom. They'll come around eventually._

"Kylie!" Castiel followed me, desperation in his voice. "Don't. Please."

"Cas," I didn't get a chance to speak. He kept going.

"I just got you back." He said. "I don't want to lose you again. I can't lose you again. Please," he gripped my hands tightly. "Please, don't leave without me. I want to be with you, to make sure that you are safe and…" _And that you don't die for real this time._

The truth was, though, that I didn't want to leave him either. I missed him. I loved him. But at the same time, I had to finish what I'd started.

"I still have a job." I said softly. "I want to be with you too. I want to live with you again. I want to smile and laugh with you. I don't want to leave." I had a small plan forming. "But I have to finish out this assignment. I've put a lot of work in to it and, honestly," I smiled a bit. "I want to see it succeed. We're doing good things. Big things." Castiel only gripped my hands tighter.

"But what about us?" He asked. "What about… starting over? Being together? Living together and laughing and smiling together like you said?"

"I have to finish this first." I said. "But… afterwards…" I had it. I had a possibility. "I could ask for reassignment afterwards. I'd have to tell them about Kelly, but… I could do it." I nodded. "They already have information about it in general, but nobody is tracking it." I'd checked it out in my first two weeks, seeing if they knew about the Nephilim in general. "I could definitely do it. I could ask to work with you on finding Kelly, and even get us some better support on it." I shrugged. "I want to be with you, though. Don't mistake me on that. I… I still love you," I moved my hands from his grasp to frame his face lightly. "And as long as you'll still have me, I will be with you."

"But…" Castiel sighed. "I understand. You have a duty to follow through with. I can wait. I am not the biggest fan of having the Men of Letters involved in my… our," he smiled at that. "Work. But if that is the condition I must follow, then I will gladly do it."

"I'll see if there's any way to keep their involvement minimal." I promised. "Thank you for understanding. I'll call every day."

"Do what you can." He said. "And enjoy it. All I want is for you to be happy."

"Thank you." I repeated, rushing to hug him. He held me back, just as tightly.

"Don't die." He whispered. "Promise me you won't die."

"You gotta do the same, then." I responded.

"Please." He didn't beg, not really. He just… I couldn't say no. The tone of his voice made was just something I couldn't say no to.

"I promise." I whispered. "I promise that I won't die as long as I can help it."

"I promise the same." He whispered back. "I love you."

"I love you too." I pulled away gently, but he just pulled me closer to him one more time.

"Please," This time there was a slight plea in his voice. "Just come back safely."

"I will." He let me go, then, allowing me to take a few steps back. I offered him a small wave. "I'll see you soon." I promised. "Don't worry."

"Alright." He nodded, and that was the last I saw before I was gone.


	25. Duties

I landed back in front of the entrance to the compound, smiling at the guards there. They didn't bother raising a gun to me. They'd already adjusted to my teleportation habits. I put my hand on the scanner, and walked in once the gates opened.

"Kylie!" Ketch greeted me once I was inside. "You've been away for quite a bit of time. Is something the matter?"

"No." I shook my head, looking down a bit as I smiled. "I just… I needed some time for myself."

"Mary briefed me on what happened." He stated. "I hope that your reconnection with the angel Castiel will not distract you from too much of your work."

"Not currently, no." I said as we started walking. "How are things going here?"

"Excellently." He said. "Mary is in right now. We just got back from a hunt."

"I thought you were more of a lone wolf." I finally had to ask him about that. It had been bugging me.

"I usually am." He agreed. "But Mary's style of hunting is still outdated due to the time lapse, and requires more aide still in bringing it up to speed within the 21st century."

"She seemed like she was doing alright to me." I commented. "From the little I saw of her assignment, anyways."

"There is always room for improvement." Ketch said. "As there is for all of us."

"So what're we looking at now for Project V?" We were in the main room, now. The board that showed our tracked vampires had lost a dramatic amount of red dots. "I've only been gone a week or so." I muttered, counting them quickly.

"Exactly 112 are left now." He said. "Mary and I have been quite busy in your absence." I couldn't help feel his words having a slight bite to them.

"I thought you were still on monitoring for the most part." I said, staring at the board in confusion.

"We were." Mick said, rounding a corner to join us as he stared at the board proudly. "The Old Men wanted us to move things along a tad, though, so we resumed our normal protocols."

"Why wasn't I informed?" I asked. "And more importantly, the only Hunters you have are Mary, Ketch, and Pierce. Fifty vampires in a little over a week would take at least one extra Hunter."

"And we pulled one in the second you requested a bit of personal time." Mick replied, his phone buzzing. He checked it quickly. "Actually, he'll be returning in a few hours, and has just brought our count down to 117."

"Who in the hell can kill 5 vampires on their own, and again," I looked between the two men. "Why wasn't I informed?"

"To answer the latter," Ketch started. "You were otherwise occupied. We didn't wish to disturb you if you were distancing yourself from the project."

"And as for the former," Mick added, holding up his phone. A call was coming in, last name Jones. "I believe you'll want to answer this call before I do." I took it from him, answering quickly.

"T.J.?"

"Kylie!" He sounded surprised, but happy. "What're you doing with Mick's phone?"

"He's here. He just handed it to me." I said, looking up at the pair of gentlemen. "I called you last week. When did you get in?"

"The day before you called, actually." He said. "I was hoping to surprise you. And then you told me about Castiel and Karma," the news had hit T.J. just as badly as it had for me to see it. He'd gotten close to the hellhound as well, and loved throwing the stick for her. "I had a feeling you would more than likely enjoy some time to yourself with Castiel, and decided to wait to tell you."

"So where are you now? Are you OK? Did you really just take out 5 vampires on your own?"

"I'm in Nebraska right now, I'm fine," I could hear the eye roll that went with those words, as well as the implied _mom_ , with sarcastic stress on the single syllable. "And yes, I did. I was a Hunter before I met you, you know."

"But still, five on your own?"

"We did twelve together out near Cork." He reminded me.

"Yeah, but then we had Karma."

"And I had that machete you fixed up for me." He pointed out. "The one I still have and that works extremely well." I'd enchanted it myself. It was supposed to help hone in on an adversary, kind of like an automatic increase to his hand-eye coordination.

Plus, you know, it had dead man's blood infused with it, so there's that.

"You mix the machete with the irradiation gun?"

"Of course." I knew he liked that. One hand wielding a machete like it was an extension of his arm, the other firing off a gun that's meant to irradiate the blood of vampires. At one point I had literally seen him chop the head off of one while shooting at the other, the actions simultaneous and downright amazing to watch.

"And you're alright?" I had to ask one more time. "No major injuries?"

"I can take out a small set of vampires by myself, you know." He pointed out. "But enough about me. How is it going with you and Castiel. You're back, which makes me a bit worried." I glanced up at Mick and Ketch again. Mick seemed to be wanting his phone back.

"I'll tell you when you get here." I promised. "I gotta go. Here's Mick." I handed him the phone quickly, mouthing a "thank-you" to him as he took it.

"Thomason, yes." Mick said, walking away. "I have a few debriefing questions I'd like to ask you quickly." I watched him leave, happiness at the thought of seeing my best friend again surging through me.

"I'm certain you will enjoy having your partner to work with again." Ketch stated. I nodded, turning back to him.

"So what's the plan?" I asked. "The Old Men wanted the timeline sped up. How drastically?"

"They want the remaining vampires exterminated within six weeks." He stated. "Sooner, if possible."

"Six weeks?!" I asked. "It took us four to knock out fifty or so of them!"

"And I firmly believe that with the added manpower now, in replacement of your hellhound," he said it calmly, and extremely factually. "As well as an experimental weapons specialist that will be arriving within a few days, we can achieve the goal set to us by our superiors." I took a deep breath, mulling over a few plans.

"I can head out with T.J. not long after he gets back." I offered. "Get a head start on it."

"Good. I'm glad to see you taking the initiative." Ketch stated. "Now, if you plan on leaving tomorrow, I suggest packing and preparing yourself now. Maybe a visit to the armory?"

"Sounds good. Who's the R&D guy?"

"Alton Morehead." He said. I'd heard the name. I'd actually consulted some of his work in making T.J.'s specialized machete and the disappearing stick for Karma.

"Awesome." I offered Ketch a smile, and he returned it politely. "Is Mary here as well? I was wanting to talk with her."

"She is in her quarters." Ketch said. "What might you need her for?"

"Women stuff." I shrugged a little with it, unsure as to why I didn't just tell Ketch off the bat that it was about my rekindling with Castiel. I decided to try and elaborate a little bit. This was Ketch, the guy that helped me get to where I was. "I want to know how she balances life with her sons in tandem with," I motioned around me. "All of this."

"As long as it doesn't distract you from your assignment, yes?"

"Why would it?"

"You've done well with us," Ketch explained. "I would hate to see you returning to your past be an indicator that you are regressing from your work."

"Oh." I thought about that. He had a point. Like I'd told Cas, I don't want to just revert to how things were. I want to grow and improve, and find a way to balance it all. "Would you say that Mary is doing a good job of it, then?"

"I think she is doing excellent," Ketch stated, surprising me. "But her situation is different from yours."

"How so?"

"She wasn't engaged." I could feel the ring against my heartbeat, hidden under my shirt. For some reason, I felt as though Ketch knew it was there. "And her husband is long dead."

"I'll figure it out, then." I decided. "I've proven myself before. This should be no different." I watched Ketch's face for any signs of emotion, approval or disapproval on my statement.

I saw nothing but the calm certainty that I tended to appreciate, yet couldn't help but feel unnerved by for once.

"Very well then." He said. "Enjoy your conversation with Mary. Best of luck on your travels tomorrow."


	26. The Calm Before

Mary was asleep when I stopped by her room, so I just went to the armory to pick up a few things I would want for vampires. Irradiation gun, machete, dead man's tranquilizing blood darts (Oh yeah. I'd thought it up and tested it myself. Worked like a charm) complete with a small blowdart gun, and…

Ingredients would probably be the only thing left that I needed. Just basic things in case of necessity. Healing. Sleeping. Tracking. A good all-around basic kit.

I actually had one of those pre-made, ingredients neatly labelled in what was honestly a cheap-ass plastic bead storage box I'd picked up from a craft store. Yarrow root, a few charred bones from different time periods, chamomile, pine sprigs, some shit I couldn't pronounce properly…

Yeah, good all-around kit.

I finished packing it all in to my Canada bag, snagged some food, and just… Sat. I wrote. I planned. I mapped out the most convenient routes by car in comparison to what hotels were nearby the target point and, well… I waited. I didn't really know what else to do. I wanted to go back to Castiel, to just walk out and disappear and go see him.

But I still had a job to do, things to accomplish. I had dedicated my time to Project V, and I wanted to see it come to fruition. Plus, if I showed my dedication by staying and ensuring that everything worked just as it should, I had a better chance of requesting and actually getting that reassignment. From there I could work with Cas, I could be around him again, and I could try to make some sort of sense of my life, hopefully without imposing on his own.

"Just bear with me," I muttered, glancing down at my notebook. I'd gone from planning and mapping and setting up a base plan to absent-mindedly doodling out different ideas for… "I don't even know what this is." I muttered, staring at the page. It only made half-sense, like an idea that hadn't been fully thought out.

"Like everything I've done." I gave a sarcastic laugh at the page, but left it be. I could figure out the calculations and intent later, I was certain.

My phone buzzed, snapping me out of my reverie. I took a glance down and saw…

I had a new phone now, and hadn't had Castiel's name saved in it for a long time, but I still remembered it. He wasn't big on changing out phones regularly or having more than one, like Sam and Dean were, much less changing cell phone numbers. I smiled a little, answering it quickly.

"Hey," I said, unable to stop myself from smiling just a little bit.

"Hello." He sounded so… awkward. He always did over the phone, but this time just a little more than normal. "How are you?"

"I'm doing fine." I said. "Just a little tired, I guess."

"What's wrong?" Quick urgency, making sure I was alright.

"Nothing, Cas," I laughed a bit. "I've just been planning and getting some things sorted. I'm going out on a hunt with T.J. tomorrow."

"You are?"

"Yeah," I looked back over at my plan notes. Screw the driving, we can just take our stuff and go. I'd been around that area before, I could get us there. "Part of the job, you know?"

"And T.J. is the, um, friend, that you told me about?" He asked. "The one you met in London?"

"Yeah."

"I thought he was in London."

"So did I." I laughed a bit more. "They called him in while I was with you, and he decided to surprise me by being here. He's my partner."

"He sounds… like a good friend." There was a slight bite to his tone, one that I almost missed. I couldn't believe it. Was that jealousy in his voice?

"He is." I agreed. "I think we'll head out to a bar afterwards, like Sam and Dean do."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'll teach him how to properly pick up American guys." I could almost imagine Castiel's face dropping.

"Oh. I, I guess, well…" I laughed, hard.

"Cas, were you jealous?"

"No." Such indignance in his voice. I missed it.

"He's hella gay," I assured the angel, still laughing.

"And hella fabulous, as you tend to say." T.J.'s voice, behind me, making me turn hard in my chair. He leaned in my doorway, smirking, arms crossed as he wore the standard black Men of Letters outfit. I smiled wide, enjoying the look on his face.

"Who is that?" Castiel asked.

"It's T.J." I said. "I thought he had at least two more hours but apparently he's picked up some American driving habits."

"In my defense," he stated. "You did leave behind a very, very nice motor vehicle when you left for a bit."

"You took my bike?"

"You still have that bike?" Castiel's voice, in my ear.

"Yeah." T.J. and I said at the same time. He laughed. "I'll leave you to the call." T.J. offered. "But tell that angel of yours not to worry, I've seen pictures and he's not my type either. Too," he gestured a little haphazardly with his hands. "Well, taken, for starters. And secondly he's much too tall." This time, I laughed.

"What did he say?" Castiel asked.

"He said that you're not his type." I repeated. "And that he's sorry for borrowing my bike without asking." I raised an eyebrow at T.J. for that, and he laughed.

"Should I leave you be to speak with him?" Castiel asked.

"Actually, T.J. just said that I'm all yours for a little while on the phone." I said, nodding to the friend in question. He nodded back, and presumably went to clean up and re-pack for tomorrow. "So what's up?"

"Nothing." Castiel admitted. "I just wanted to call and see if you were alright."

"Thank you." I smiled a tiny bit, turning back to my planning for a moment. Yeah, we could just show up at the area, check in to a hotel, and get working.

"What are you doing?"

"Planning for tomorrow." I said. "Expenses. Temporary home base. Target plans. Normal hunting things."

"Where are you going?"

"I can't really tell you that." I wanted to be honest with him, but saying that hurt me. "It's a part of protocol."

"But what if you need help?"

"Then I'll call you." I promised, deciding to simply leave out the part where I would call Ketch and Mick and Mary before him since they would be closer. "But I promise, I'll be fine."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just… Not used to you hunting without me."

"Well, I promise I'll be safe and fine and I'll call you afterwards." I offered.

"Thank you." He sounded relieved at that.

"What're you up to?" I diverted the conversation from me to him. It would be easier if I didn't have to tell him that I couldn't tell him things.

"I'm preparing to leave the Bunker." He said. "Trying to track down Kelly is… Difficult, but not entirely impossible."

"Got any leads?"

"Nothing good." I could hear his despair. "I feel as though I am constantly many paces behind her." I thought over that.

"If you can get some DNA, I can try tracking her." I offered. "I can't make any promises, because she's carrying a Nephilim and that could cause some interference no problem, but I can try." I had an idea as I said that. Crowley may still have a bit of Lucifer grace from former vessels that I could use to try and track him. I could always give him a call.

"Thank you." He said. "If I can acquire something of use, I will let you know."

"Awesome!" I looked over at my clock. "It's getting late, and I'm heading out early tomorrow. Mind if I give you a shout later on that night?"

"I don't understand how you could physically give a person a loud version of your voice," I laughed, and I could hear Cas chuckle quietly on his end. I'd told him at one point, way back when, that his literalism made me smile. The fact that he was doing it now, on purpose… It was relieving. "Yes," he said. "I think that I would enjoy that."

"Thanks. Sleep well." I said.

"I love you."

"I love you too." I didn't hesitate to say the words. It felt good to say them, actually. It made me happy. I hung up afterwards, unable to wipe the smile from my face.


	27. Crowley's Lament

Over the next three weeks we made insane amounts of progress with Project V. 112 went down to 47, thanks to work from myself, T.J., Mary, Ketch, and Pierce. Alton Morehead's work proved to be tremendously helpful, and he was interested in my ideas as well. Our collaboration led to an idea that was being tested and refined back in London, a multi-ball for whenever you weren't certain what you were going up against. Once activated, it was supposed to read the room and react accordingly. Vampires were irradiated, werewolves were shot at with silver, ghosts were analyzed for any sort of facial recognition and repeatedly hit with a mixture of salt and iron, et cetera. It was supposed to have 20 different functions, total, that would be activated based on what was found in the room.

Once Alton's people back at HQ had a prototype, we were going to begin testing phases. I was excited for it, as was Alton. It would be a huge breakthrough and a potential standard for any mission.

I had just gotten out of a meeting with Alton on possible runework to keep it stable (my current theory was to mix some of the Celtic I'd learned with different detection spells in existence, but Alton wanted to refer to a few different texts that may have similar ideas. He was searching through the digital archives whereas I was going back to my room to see if there was anything in the Book of the Damned) when my phone rang. I saw the familiar picture of a little fruity drink with an umbrella and a pitchfork sticking out of it, and answered immediately. "Hey, what's up?"

"I need to meet with you." He stated. I looked around, seeing if anyone was nearby. I knew that no matter how good of graces I was in, that nobody would look upon me talking with the King of Hell favorably.

"What's wrong?"

"It's important." He said, sounding almost… Defeated. "Can you just… Can you meet me at the cantina?" I knew which one he was talking about, the one I'd met him at before leaving for London.

I almost said no, I have work, I'm busy, but his tone stopped me. I'd never heard him sound like that before. Sarcastic, yes. Bored, yes. Angry, yes. Cheerful for some very sadistic and demonic reasons, yes. Annoyed, yes. Determined, yes. Convinced, yes. Even accepting, yes. But… saddened, resigned, absolutely hopeless… Even when we were certain the world was going to end, he didn't sound like this. It was bittersweet, then. Like an old man saying they had a good run. This… This was like him telling me someone in his family had died.

Couldn't be Rowena. He wouldn't sound that dejected.

"Yeah," I promised, nodding as I did. "I can be there in ten minutes."

"Thank you." He hung up, then, and I stared at my phone for only a moment before I started speed-walking to my room. I grabbed a jacket, changed in to normal clothes (re- not all black and for hunting), and made sure my angel blades were strapped to me like normal.

All in all, I wasn't going and looking for a fight. I was just going to visit an old friend. I took a breath, throwing my wallet in my pocket before I started heading for the doors.

T.J. caught me on my way out. "Where are you headed off to?" He asked. "We just got back from a nest, don't tell me you're headed back out again without me."

"This isn't a hunt," I promised him. "It's personal."

"Well, what's going on?" He asked. "I can come with you, for protection. You don't seem to be very armed or prepared in case of an emergency."

"When have I ever needed much weaponry?" I asked playfully, raising an eyebrow. "I did just fine on my own when we first met." I laughed, nudging his shoulder playfully with my own. He laughed as well.

"Right, you did." He said, nodding. "Still, though… I don't want you going out on your own. It's dangerous."

"Really?" I asked, giving him a sarcastic smile. "And I thought it was all unicorns and rainbows."

"I'm serious, Kylie." He gripped my shoulder lightly.

"What do I have to worry about now that I wouldn't on a daily basis?" I asked.

"We've been hunting down every Vampire in this area." He said. "And I'm certain others in different states have heard about it. If they know it's you, they could come after you while you're alone."

"Good thing I won't be alone, then." I said.

"So you're bringing me with you?"

"No." I shook my head. "I'm just going to meet a very old friend."

"Who is it?" He looked confused. "Castiel?"

"No," I looked around, seeing if anyone is nearby. Once I was certain it was clear, I pulled him in close. "It's Crowley."

"The demon?!" He almost said it too loud, but I clamped down on his mouth quickly.

"Yeah, the demon." I nodded. "It's important. He wouldn't ask to meet up if it wasn't."

"I don't feel comfortable with you meeting a demon on your own." He said. "Especially with everything that is going on."

"T.J., it's Crowley," I rolled my eyes. "I promise you, I'll be safe."

"At least tell me where you're going, then." He requested. "And keep your phone on you, in case something happens." I thought about it. It wasn't unreasonable, and in all honesty if roles were reversed I'd be making the same requests for his safety as well.

"Fine." I agreed. "A little cantina right near the Texas/Mexico border, La Cocina de las Risas."

"Thank you." He said. "When will you be back?"

"Probably not for a few hours." I said. "Can you cover for me?" He thought for a minute.

"Take your bike," he said. "And bring me back some tacos. If anyone asks, I'll say you went to get takeaway food."

"Sounds good." I agreed. "Hard taco, extra tomatoes?" He made a disgusted face.

"No," he requested. "Soft taco, light tomatoes, and hot sauce." Now it was my turn to look confused.

"I thought you loved extra tomatoes." I muttered. He shook his head.

"No, they're disgusting." He said.

"You always got extra tomatoes on your burgers, though." I reminded him.

"Yeah, but that was in London." He said. "I don't know what it is, but your tomatoes here in America are absolutely distasteful." I laughed.

"Whatever." I said. "See you in a few hours. And thank you."

"No problem." He said. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, wiggling it in front of him for a moment before shoving it back in its place. He smiled before walking away, and I made my own way to my motorcycle. I rode out with ease, telling the guards at the gate exactly what T.J. had said, that I'm out getting takeout food for us. From there I rode hard and fast until the trees hid me, and stashed my bike off to the side of the road.

"Concelo," I whispered, moving it behind a few trees. "Et recordabor." When I said those last two words, a single rune on the side lit up bright purple for only a moment before the entire motorcycle was gone from view. Conceal and Remember. The rune on the side would let me find it again in case it was moved (or in case I had a hard time finding my invisible motorcycle… again).

Then I just… showed up at the cantina, sitting opposite of Crowley. He already had two drinks on the table, one for him and one for me. He glanced over at a clock before looking at me. "Fifteen minutes." He commented. "Getting slow in your old age?"

"Got held up leaving." I said. "No worries. Just a concerned friend."

"How are things going now, anyways?" He asked. "You've got the angel back in your life. You have power. You have ambition. You have the world in your hands, more or less," he swirled a finger around the rim of his drink for a moment, thinking. "You have every opportunity you could ask for your now."

"Life is good." I summed up.

"You planning on moving back in with Castiel?"

"We're taking things slow." I said. "Dean and Sam aren't exactly big fans of me being in the Men of Letters, so I won't be moving back in to the Bunker any time soon."

"They'll come around." Crowley said. "They like you. You're their… Their family." He said the word almost bitterly. "Like how Mary is their family and Castiel is their family.

"Crowley," I spoke slowly, and took a sip from my drink before actually asking the question. "Why did you call? You don't ever call for social reasons."

"I…" He sighed. "It's my son, Gavin."

"You have a son?"

"Yeah." He said, smiling wistfully. "Little bastard."

"Can I meet him?"

"It depends," he sunk down in his chair, resting his elbows on the table. I don't think I'd ever seen him like that before, just…

For once, he wasn't trying to look like a leading figure, or like he was in control, or like he couldn't care less. He just looked human.

For the first time, a demon looked quite undeniably human.

"Can you time travel?" He asked. I thought. I could, technically. There was a spell in the archives of the Bunker, an old one. But it was extremely finnicky, and one of those in case of emergency, break glass kinds of things. And there had been a spell in the Book of the Damned that could do it, but it would require a secondary person.

I could, in all honesty, if I wanted to. But I didn't. You don't mess with time. You don't go back and change things.

"Why?" I asked instead.

"Because Gavin went back." He said. "And he's dead."

"How do you know?"

"Did you hear anything about any school teachers being killed over the last few months?" He asked. I shook my head. Nothing had come across my radar. "It was a ghost. Gavin's girlfriend or whatever," he shook his own head, throwing his hand up to wave in the air for a moment before propping his head on his fingertips. "I didn't even know he had a girlfriend. Fiona Duncan, apparently." He sighed. "There was so much about my boy's life that I didn't know, so much I never go to ask him or learn about. And now, he's dead again." He took a long drink. "Down with the ship and his bonnie lass."

"Crowley," I wasn't certain what to say, much less what to do. I settled for reaching across to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss." I finally said, deciding to just go with the simplest route. Crowley nodded, his expression a little more composed.

"It was what the bloody idiot wanted." He said. "He even knew what would happen if he got on that ship, and he got on anyways."

"How did he get back?" I asked after thinking for a moment. Crowley couldn't time travel. Castiel couldn't time travel anymore. The only people who possibly could were me and….

"Rowena." Crowley answered. "At Moose and Squirrel's request, the bloody traitors."

"But didn't you say Gavin wanted to go back?" I asked. "To be with Fiona?"

"Rowena sent him back to hurt me." Crowley stated. "As payback for Oskar." I remembered that day. She'd had to kill him for a spell, to get the Mark of Cain off of Dean. It had been horrifying to watch. "She led him to make that choice."

"But Dean and Sam just wanted to save people." I pointed out. "And didn't it save those teachers?" I didn't have anything on any dead teachers, so it must've worked. Crowley just huffed.

"Who bloody cares about a few schoolteachers?" He asked. "What use are they anyways?"

"You don't mean that." I said. Then I remembered who I was talking to. I was still talking to a demon. He very well could and probably did mean that. He didn't answer though, didn't prove me right or wrong, just moved his hands for a second before setting his head down lightly on his knuckles.

"Dean and Sam are Hunters." He finally said. "They turned you away. How can you still defend them when they're just going to kill the both of us once we stop being bloody useful?"

"I'm not useful right now," I pointed out. "They're not big fans of me, even. And I don't have a bullet in my back."

"That's because the angel would be put off by your death." He stated. "Me, however, and Rowena… I couldn't care less about her, but still," he shrugged dejectedly. "Dead as doornails the second we're no longer considered needed. We're a means to an end."

"No, you're not." I argued. "Dean and Sam wouldn't have kept you around this long if you were."

"I've just been useful at the right times." He said. "They're Hunters. They'll come after me when the timing is right. It's in their nature."

"Then what about me?" I challenged. "Without Castiel, what about me?"

"Then you'd probably be in the gutter too." He said. "Hell, I'm honestly shocked the Men of Letters have kept you around this long. They'll probably take you out when you stop being useful as well."

"I doubt that." I said.

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. "They didn't bat an eye when your dog died, did they? Neither did Tweedledumb and Dumber." I didn't answer, and he kept going. "The Men of Letters are what drove the Loughlins and Rowena to America in the first place."

"But that was a long time ago." I reminded him. "Times change. They've changed."

"Really?" He asked. "What makes you so certain?"

"Because I'm alive," I started out with. "They offered me that job. And… And…" That was the only thing I could think of. Their goal was a world without monsters, without…

Without things like me.

No. No, that's not true. They trusted me. I was one of them. I had a stable life.

But why had I decided to not say anything, much less tell anyone I was going to meet up with Crowley? I knew they would look down on me for it.

That they wouldn't accept me for it.

Like so many of them hadn't accepted me at first, and how I'd had to stand up to another one of their own in much higher standing to get any leeway for myself.

"That's all I could think of when I asked myself the same questions about the Winchesters." He said. I shook my head.

"No, there are so many more reasons than that." I argued. "Look, who did they go to when the end of the world was nigh to recruit help?" I poked him in the shoulder. "You. Who did they go to for help about finding the First Blade?" Another poke to the shoulder. "You. Who saved Castiel a few weeks ago in that barn, when none of us could do anything?" I clenched my teeth for a moment, still pissed at myself for that helplessness I felt. "You. Sam and Dean owe you so much, not to mention Castiel and me. You saved my life, you saved Castiel's, you've saved Sam and Dean's," I shrugged, lifting my hands palms-up for a moment. "Face it, you're a good guy now, and good guys don't get killed."

Crowley sat there for a while, not speaking, as he finished his drink. Finally he let out a long exhale, glaring at me. The glare didn't have any bite though, it was just a half-hearted habit. "You are absolutely the most annoyingly uplifting and optimistic witch I've ever met."

"Deal with it." I challenged, offering him a half-smile. Crowley rolled his eyes.

"I hate you."

"Sure you do, good guy." I said, patting his shoulder. "I'll buy the next round."

We sat and talked for a few hours, and Crowley told me all about Gavin. What he looked like, what his habits were as a kid, what he'd learned after Gavin had been brought to the 21st century and HOW.

"And I've still got the damned ring." He muttered afterwards, pulling it out of his pocket. It was a small signet ring, with a lot of water damage on it. "Back before you could even consider me to be a 'good guy,' which I'm still adamantly opposed to," he pointed a little, to emphasize his point. "I held Bobby's soul hostage. They summoned my son's ghost to find my bones, threatened to kill me thanks to that bloody bastard child." He smiled a little. "That was the proudest I've ever been of my son."

"Do you mind if I?" I asked, motioning to the ring. He nodded a second later, and I picked it up. I didn't know what spell Bobby had used, but I had a few things I could do. I looked around, seeing how crowded the place was. There was maybe five other people, including the bartender. I waved a hand around us, putting up the same type of concealing field I'd had in London. I grabbed a napkin, unfolding it as I placed the ring on the napkin.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Do you want to see your son one more time?" I asked. "Talk with him once more?"

"You can do that?" He asked. I nodded. "Then… No." He said.

"What?"

"No." He said firmly, shaking his head. He picked up the ring, putting it back in his pocket. "He lived his own life, and he deserves to die in it without my meddling or being angry with him again."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." I put away the napkin, and took down the field.

"Are you OK with that?"

"Yes."

"Alright, then." I said. "Are you going to be OK?"

"I think so." He decided. "It's just been difficult since you left."

"You could've picked up the phone sooner." I reminded him.

"No I couldn't." He argued. "You went off to live your own life. You were happy, and proved it yourself by what you said last time we spoke about the Men of Letters."

This time it was my turn to finish my drink in silence, uncertain as to how to respond. He was right, I had been happy. I still was, or at least thought I was. But with Sam and Dean and Castiel back in the mix alongside exterminating an entire area of vampires… And what I'd asked T.J. last time I'd been in London…

I wasn't as sure now, I guess. And I didn't know what to do about that. I was still happy, but I kept feeling that something was going to fall through at any moment.

Then again, with that being the main theme of my life since I got in this whole mess, I guess it's something I'd come to expect.

"I'm here now." I offered.

"I almost didn't call," he admitted. "You're still working. You're still enjoying your work."

"What I'm working on is almost over, and I'm asking Mick and Ketch about a reassignment once it is." I said.

"Really? To what?"

"Working with Castiel to find Kelly and Lucifer's child."

"And you think they'll let you?"

"Of course they will." I said. "I'll be helping find the damn antichrist. Why would they say no?"

"Everyone hates to lose a star pupil." He commented.

"It's in the interest of the greater good and keeping them updated on an important issue in America." I pointed out. "Again, why would they say no?"

"Dean and Sam won't be keen on you doing that."

"I'll make it work, somehow." I stated. "I always do."

"Best of luck, then." He said, standing.

"You're leaving?"

"I have important business in Hell that, quite frankly, I've been away from long enough as it is." He said. "Thank you, though. Thank you for meeting me here."

"Don't be a stranger." I told him. "Call if you need a person."

"I'm the King of Hell!" He reminded me. I raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't forget to call either if you ever need some unholy assistance."

"Will do." I promised. He picked up his last drink, and raised it to me. I raised mine back as he disappeared in to thin air.

I walked over to the bar, picked up the tab, and added on the takeout food for T.J that I'd promised. I got back without a lot of difficulties, and rode in happily with the food. T.J. was waiting for me inside the compound.

"How did it go?" He asked, taking the food. "Ooh, you remembered! Thank you!"

"It went well." I said, nodding. "It went really well."

"Good." He smiled. "You wanna talk about it?" I thought about it, thought about telling my best friend what had happened. Telling him about Crowley, telling him about just talking with my friend, just talking with my friend about it all.

Then again, I wasn't even going to tell him about me leaving to see him in the first place. On one hand, I didn't want to get him in trouble. On the other hand… It was like I was in two separate lives, kind of. One life in the Men of Letters, doing what I loved and doing good for the world. The other one was back with Crowley and Cas and Sam and Dean and Rowena, and just fighting the good fight in a different way. Keeping things at a pretty decent standstill, just working to make sure the world stayed alive.

"Maybe later." I decided.

"Are you sure?" He asked, looking concerned. "You know you can talk with me about anything, right?"

"Yeah, I know." I agreed. "I just…" I shook my head. "No, you're right, I can talk to you. You're my best friend. I can tell you anything."

So we went back to my room, sat with the Mexican takeout from the little cantina that was states away from us, and talked. It was different than talking with Crowley, we laughed more and made more jokes. We smiled more. We talked through things more.

It was different, but I wouldn't say it was better. Just… Just a part of that different world.


	28. Damn Fortunate Winchesters

One week later we were down to 23. We had a deadline, after all, and we wanted to wrap up early. I hadn't spoken with Mick or Ketch yet, though, as to moving assignments. I was just a bit afraid to. I didn't want to hear them say no, and I was honestly a bit scared of what would happen next if they said yes. I'd be with Castiel again, around him constantly… would he even want me there? Would he want me around? Would he be OK with that too?

I'd spent about a week or so with him, but this would be different. There would be work and Hunting and I'd have to keep my superiors updated and… It would be different.

He'd have to see me, every day. See how I worked, now. See me use magic frequently. See me completely as, well… The new me. No being polite and hiding bits of it. No showing only the good parts. Just… He'd have to see all of it.

I wouldn't be able to hide any of it. The disappearing to get places and fight. The sitting and plotting out different possible spells. The fighting techniques.

Those weren't things that they knew, that any of them knew except for the Men of Letters, and that was because they taught me.

There were reasons we'd gone through so many vampires in such a short time period, after all. Ketch and Mary. Me and T.J. together. Pierce was good too, but he wasn't Men of Letters. He was brutal, but not effective.

Cas would have to see the new person I'd become, in full.

I sat at my desk, resting my head in my hands. "Maybe I should ask Mary," I muttered. She had just told her sons about being in the Men of Letters. She might know how to approach this. "She's got years of relationship experience. She'd be the better choice."

I walked over to her room, happy to get the advice. She and Ketch had just gotten back about six hours ago from taking out a nest, and hopefully that was enough time passed so that I could just talk with her. On the way there, I passed Mick and Ketch.

"Oh good, Kylie!" Ketch crowed. "I wanted to call you in. We have good news."

"Hunt went well?" I asked. He nodded, proud.

"Another nest terminated. Our numbers are down to eleven now." I smiled, impressed. "No complications, thanks to the new vampire bomb you sent Mary and I out with to test." It had just been something I'd been tinkering on in my free time. Throw it in, and light similar to that of the sun would go off and leave some incredibly nasty burns on them (as well as give any normal nearby humans a nice tan, as I could see on Ketch), causing an effective distraction for large groups so that they would be easy to kill. "Bit boring, really."

"Just don't get too close to them too frequently." I warned him. "Skin cancer is still a thing."

"And in any case," Mick added. "Boring's good." He thought for a moment before speaking. "Before I forget, how's Mary?"

"Excellent. As always." Ketch complimented.

"She say anything about her boys?" Mick asked.

"As I've said many, many, so many times, we don't need them. We already have the best Winchester." He took a glance over at me. "And their Little Winchester, as Pierce informed us, to boot."

"Yes. But that's not your call, is it? Or mine." I knew that that would bother Ketch a little bit. He hated not calling the shots. "The Old Men want them on board."

He didn't mind taking orders from them, though.

"As far as London's concerned," Mick added. "Where Sam and Dean Winchester go, the rest of the American Hunters will follow."

"Hmm," Ketch mused, looking over at me. "What do you think, Kylie? Would the rest of the American Hunters follow Sam and Dean's lead, or would you say that we have all we need with Mary?"

"I think that we should follow orders," I decided. "And that Ketch is right in saying that we already have an amazing Hunter like Mary with us, but she still may enjoy working with her sons."

"That's extremely neutral of you." Ketch commented, scrunching his eyes at me. "You want something. You always do when you become more neutral."

"I do not!" I argued.

"Permission for Karma to walk around freely in the city." Ketch said.

"Oh come on." I muttered.

"Keeping your key to Bunkers." He continued.

"Come on! Tell me that was a bad idea!"

"You have a key?" Mick asked. Ketch kept going.

"Getting out of repercussions for leaving your current assignment unannounced." He added.

"I ended up saving Mary's life, along with everyone else there!" I defended.

"And now this," he concluded. "You're being neutral again, which means you want something or are trying to weasel out of something."

"Can we get back to you having a key to every Bunker that you haven't yet returned?" Mick asked. Ketch and I ignored him.

"Spit it out." Ketch ordered. "What do you want?"

I took a deep breath. I couldn't quite hide it anymore. I had to say it, I guess. "I wanted to wait until we were almost finished, but since the number is down to eleven then I see no reason to beat around the bush any longer." I took a second breath. "I wanted to request a specific assignment after this one."

"And what might this assignment be?" Mick asked.

"I want to work with Castiel," I stated, keeping my voice calm and determined. "In search of something big."

"Which is?" Ketch asked.

"There was a large energy surge, not long before Sam called Mick and we dealt with Lucifer, wasn't there?" I asked.

"How did you know about that?" Mick asked. "What things do you know about that I doubt you're supposed to know?"

"In all honesty, a lot of things." I said. "But that's beside the point. The point is that the surge is indicative of a Nephilim being conceived, right?"

"What have you not been telling us?" Ketch asked.

"Castiel is looking for the mom and the kid." I finished. "And I want to help him. My magic abilities and relationship with Castiel would help with the search, as well as potentially bring in the Winchesters in the long run."

"I believe we still both have questions as to your knowledge of what should be classified," Ketch started off first.

"But," Mick interrupted. Ketch looked at him sharply. "We will consider your request. I believe you're right, it could prove beneficial on multiple counts in the long run."

"However, we will need to discuss this further before making any final decisions." Ketch added. This time Mick looked over at him sharply. I spoke quickly, interrupting before it became a small argument thinly veiled with politeness."

"Thank you, sirs." I said, nodding to both of them. "Mr. Ketch, is Mary back? I just wanted to go see how she's doing."

"She's in her room," Ketch said. "However, she may be resting."

"I'll leave her be if she is." I promised. "Have a great day, guys."

"Oh, before I forget," Ketch started. "If we were to try and approach the Winchesters diplomatically, what would you recommend to help with this attempt?"

"Scotch." I said. "Really good scotch, good burgers for Dean, healthy foods for Sam," I thought for a moment on anything else. "And yeah, that should do it if you want to start off on the right foot."

"Good to know." Ketch said. "Enjoy your conversation with Mary."

"Thank you." I walked from them to Mary's room, contemplating what I would say. I wasn't quite certain how to approach this, much less how she would respond. She had just recently told Sam and Dean about her working for the Men of Letters, and they hadn't liked it either.

Then again, she was their mom. They'd come back around for her. I was certain they would.

She was awake when I got to her room, already changed out of the standard black Hunting clothes and in normal wear. She was looking down at her phone, as though waiting for something.

I knocked lightly on the inside of her door, and she looked up sharply. "Kylie," she shut off her phone, and quickly put it in her pocket. "Hey, how're you?"

"I'm doing pretty alright." I said. "You?"

"I'm great!" She said, that same feigned enthusiasm in her voice that we'd all gotten used to.

"That bad?" I asked, offering a small smile. She sighed.

"I don't know what to do." She admitted. "Sam and Dean… I guess I should've taken a hint from how they reacted to you telling them you worked here."

"No, they're your family." I said. "I would've placed bets on you being the one to make it OK for them."

"Thanks." She muttered. "I guess it's just… Time, maybe? Discussions?" I shrugged.

"You're talking to the person that hid from all of them for over a year." I pointed out.

"And Castiel seemed happy to have you back, from what you told me." She replied. I smiled a little, and she moved over to pat a spot on her bed. "How's all that going?" I sat down beside her, thinking out my response.

"It's not easy," I admitted. "Cas wants to be here and help, and I kind of wish he was some days. But, at the same time," I shrugged. "I don't know. It's just all an adjustment thing, I guess."

"Well why don't you go with him?" She asked. "Why not work with him?"

"Actually," I laughed a little. "I just asked Ketch and Mick about reassignment for just that."

"What did they say?"

"They need to think about it." I leaned back a little, my head lightly resting on the wall. "Which I'm honestly expecting to equal a firm no, in all honesty."

"Why?"

"You really think they'll want me working outside of them?" I asked. "Much less that Cas will want Men of Letters in on it?"

"I think that all Cas wants is you back." She said. "And that Mick and Ketch aren't stupid. They'll see the tactical reasons for putting you with him and say yes, no problem."

"I'm glad one of us is confident about it." I said. "What about you?"

"What do you mean what about me?" She asked.

"You almost never use your phone unless it involves Sam and Dean." I said. "Did they send you a message?"

"No." She shook her head with the word, her mouth in a slight grimace. "I've been asking if they'll talk, but… Nothing, so far." This time, I shook my head.

"No," I muttered, standing up. "Nah, not acceptable. Not even a little bit."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that, and no offense to them being your sons at all," I said. "But they can also be the most hard-headed people I know." I kept shaking out my head, pulling out my own phone. "And you're family. You're their mom. They shouldn't be shutting you out in the cold, or pissy with you because you're doing what you believe is right," for a moment, all I could remember was when Amara was still at large. The anger. The hurt. It had felt like I was back in the Arctic all over again. "And by Chuck, I can and will ream them both a new one if they can't get their heads out of their asses and talk to their own damn mom."

"Um," she was about to say something, probably not quite happy with my words, but I didn't care. Mary was good. She deserved better. She deserved…

She deserved what I didn't get from them; what I would never get from my own mom or dad or brothers again. She deserved her family.

I scrolled through my contacts, holding up a hand to silence Mary until I found Sam and Dean's. I pondered the two for a moment before hitting the button to call Sam. Between them, he'd be the easiest.

Surprisingly, he answered. "Kylie," he said. "Hey. What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Yes, something is wrong." I said.

"Who did you call?" Mary asked. I held up a hand to her again.

"You idiots are being assholes to your own fucking mom." I continued. I could almost feel Sam's bitchface.

"Kylie, look," he started. I cut him off, making a closing motion in the air with my hand.

"No, you look." I interrupted. "You have a brother. You have two brothers, if you count Castiel. You have an awkward cousin or uncle or whatever you wanna consider Crowley, but he's not an enemy and we both know it." I firmed my voice up and kept going. "And you have a mom. A living, breathing mother that loves you both and cares for you."

"Kylie," I kept on going with my rant.

"Do you know what I would give for that?" I asked. "Do you know how much I would beg to have my own mom back? Or my dad? Or my brothers? Or Mrs. Tran and Kevin! Do you know how much I wish every single day that I still had my family, alive and supportive and doing their best to fit in and do what they think is right?" This time, Sam wised up and kept his mouth shut. "I'd give anything to have any of that back, to have a family again." I finished. "Every day I have to wake up and remember that they're all dead, that I'm the only one left. I have to remember that I ran while my brothers and dad were being tortured. I have to remember that I hated my mom for years, and never knew the truth until she was gone. I have to remember that no matter what happens, I lose anyone I could ever consider family." I gritted my teeth, biting back tears.

"Kylie," Mary tried, but I shook my head, keeping my attention on the phone. "I can never get any of that back, Sam. Never. I have no family, but you do." I glanced over at Mary. "You have a mom that was terrified to tell you two the truth because, even though she believes in what she's doing, she was also worried for you two. She knows what happened, and she's doing her best to work with it too." I took a deep breath. "I had to work with Crowley, the demon that took out my family, because I knew that I was going to be doing good things. Mary is working right now with the people that hurt the both of you because it's for a greater good. And if you can't get your head out of your DAMN ASS enough to see that she's doing her best in a brand new world for her, and see how fucking FORTUNATE the two of you are to have such a wonderful mom like Mary here, alive, and back in your lives, then you're not the people I thought you were." I took a breath. "You're not the family I thought you used to be. Not if you're turning your back on your own mom."

There was a silence, on both ends of the line. I held my breath, waiting for Sam's response. I was done speaking. The ball was in his court now.

Finally, he spoke up. "Can you give the phone to mom?" He asked. I looked over at Mary, and tossed her my cell.

"Take as long as you need." I said, and she looked at me in surprise. I nodded to the phone. "It's Sam."

"Thank you." She said, picking up the phone gingerly. "Sam?" She said his name hesitantly to the phone, and I could hear the faintest bit of speaking from the other end. I walked out, heading to my own room.

I hadn't meant to blow up like that. I just…

I couldn't help but envy them. I couldn't help but wish I was as lucky as Sam and Dean were. They didn't have to face being hated by the only thing left that they could've called family. They had their mom back, instead. They had Cas, and could see him every day. Hell, I'd heard about Jody. She seemed like a hell of a woman. They had her, too. They just… They managed to have so much, and it was like they didn't even see it somedays.

I sat down at my desk, taking a few minutes to compose myself before I got to work. There were eleven vampires left, scattered a little bit. However, I knew they'd band together once they had the time. And honestly, that was all we needed. We needed them around each other – easier to kill them off when their together, and all in one place. So far ten out of the eleven had shacked up at the same hotel in Wichita, and the last one looked to be headed that way as well. Once they were all there, it wouldn't be difficult to take them out of the picture.

And then Project V would be complete.

And I would either be staying with it, being reassigned somewhere else (possibly back to London), or put with Castiel.

I scrunched up the paper I was writing on and threw it in the trash. I wasn't certain what I wanted to do or how I wanted to re-focus, but I wanted to. I had to, somehow.

I opened up my notebook, and took a look at the spell I'd been doodling a while back. I still had no idea what it was supposed to be for. It was unfinished, that I knew, but I didn't know what to do to make it finished.

"My head is way too cluttered," I muttered to myself, flipping to an empty page. I looked at it, and shook my head before going to lay down on my bed. I laid on my back, looking up at the ceiling. T.J. was gone, out doing some recon for moving on with a new chapter in Project V. I had nobody to talk to, really.

Well, maybe one person.

"Hey Kev," I said, talking to the air. "I don't know if you'll get this, and I'm sorry if I'm bothering you or anything, but I kinda miss just doing this and talking with you, so I figured I'd give it a shot." I took a breath and just… talked. I talked about everything, out loud, doing my best to think of what Kevin would say or do or how he would respond. I didn't really know what else to do, at this point. I could've called Crowley, but with us being so close to having Project V done, and my just requesting a specific assignment, I couldn't quite leave just yet to talk with him.

Afterwards, I would. It would be easier then.

I don't know how long I talked to myself, pretending I was talking to Kevin, but it was long enough for there to be a soft knock on my doorframe. I stopped, looking up and seeing Mary. "Hey." I said, swinging my legs around to stand up. She tossed me my phone, and I caught it with ease. "How'd it go?"

"Sam is coming." She said, smiling. "He wants to see what we're doing. I've already told Mick, and he's ecstatic."

"Just Sam?"

"Yeah, just Sam." She confirmed. I offered her a huge smile.

"Good. I'm happy for you!"

"Kylie," she said. "What you did… I don't know how you did it, but… thank you."

"No problem." I shrugged. "It just wasn't right. You guys are a family."

"I'm sorry about what happened to your mom and dad and brothers, by the way." She added. "I… I didn't know."

"I don't really advertise it much, now." I said. "It was what put me in this life, eventually. It's a part of my past." I shrugged. "I'm just happy that you guys have your family."

"You realize that you're a part of this family too, right?" She asked. "Sam wouldn't have answered if you weren't. They wouldn't have said such good things about you if you weren't."

"They said nice things about me?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"When they thought you were dead." I felt my face flatten out at that.

"Sounds about right." I agreed. "I doubt they would say those things now."

"Just wait." Mary promised. "Sam is coming here in part because of what you said to him. Castiel wishes he was here with you, like you said." She took a few steps towards me and gave me a slightly awkward hug. "You're family too."

"Thank you." I hugged her back for a moment, tightly, and let go just as quickly. She wasn't the biggest on physical contact and everything. "I need to get back to planning. I should probably consult with Ketch on the best way to knock out the next ones. Do you know where he is?"

"I think he actually just left." Mary said. "I went looking for him and Mick to let them know that Sam was coming."

"What did Mick say?"

"He's grateful to you." She answered. "And excited for his arrival."

"Great. I should probably talk with Mick about getting things set up for guests, then." I said. "You know he'll want to show off what we can do."

"Sounds good." Mary agreed. "And, again, thank you."

"No problem."


	29. The Vampires Struck Back (And Lost)

It became a shitshow way too fast. I went back to my room after Mick's briefing, giving them all enough time to speak with each other and get things sorted out. Ketch was out there somewhere, and it made me curious. He didn't usually just leave. I wasn't worried for him, I knew he could handle himself just fine.

I was just curious.

Then I heard a shout, and I couldn't be curious anymore. It was womanly, and I knew Mary wasn't one to freak out in fear. Serena, then.

I searched my room for only a moment, shoving a few ingredients I kept for small tests of different spells in to my pockets (mostly just things to make sure I could keep walking around without difficulties) before I hauled ass outta there and towards the shouting. Then I heard Mary and Sam over the intercoms.

"Fall back." Clear. Calm. Precise. Mary's voice.

"Lock this place down now!" Sam's voice in the background, definitely much more urgent than Mary's but still just as commanding.

"Fall back." Mary repeated. "Secure all exits. Do not engage. Fall back now."

"Like hell." I muttered, flicking my wrists. My angel blades fell perfectly in to place, and I smiled. I could take on whatever was in here.

Once I got to the main room, I saw Mick. "What's going on?"

"Vampires." He said. "More Rest. They came here."

"Where's Mary and Sam?"

"They went outside." Serena explained, pointing at the bolted door. I stared at it for a moment before turning back to Mick.

"There may be a few things I didn't let you know I could do." I admitted, shooting him an apologetic look. "I'll get them back in here if I need to. Pierce," I looked at the Hunter. "Stay here."

"I'll protect the Brits." He promised. I nodded, and disappeared out the door to the outside.

"Mick is gonna give me hell for that later." I muttered, glancing quickly. There they were, maybe fifty feet to my right. I was about to sprint towards them, but I heard a snarl to my left. I ducked, acting on instinct, and watched as a vampire soared over my head. It was going for a lunge. I stayed crouched, watching as it got up. I threw a blade once I had a clear shot at its chest, and that was one less vamp to worry about. I snagged my blade quickly, running to join Sam and Mary. One was behind Mary. She was decapitating another, she didn't see it.

I popped up in front of it, holding out my angel blade. It ran right in to it, looking confused for just a moment before it died.

"Kylie?!" Sam said, bewildered.

"Hiya." I said, offering him a small wave. "What's the plan?"

"Capture." Mary responded. I didn't even question it.

"I've got an idea." I offered.

"Go for it." Sam ordered. I nodded, glancing back over at Mary.

"Containment room." I said. That was the one room specifically made so I could disappear and reappear in to it (except usually during those times the wardings around the place were down). It was right next to the meeting room, but they wouldn't be getting out anytime soon. Usually when I brought a vampire in there, he was already knocked out with the chamomile spell. I didn't have any on me. I'd have to get creative and be extremely fast.

"Do it." Mary agreed. I got to work, disappearing behind vampires and dropping them off there one by one. It was tiring. I wasn't used to disappearing and reappearing this much, and the wardings around the compound, damn. I may be able to get in and out, but not easily. Not even close. I got in about four different More Rest vamps before I knew I would need a moment, and soon. I dropped myself between Mary and Sam then, putting hands on both their shoulders.

"That'll have to do." I told them. "Let's get in."

Once I had them inside at the main meeting room, I slumped in the nearest chair. "You alright Little Winchester?" Pierce asked.

"Just need, like, an hour nap and a power bar." I answered. "Other than that, I'm fine." I wiped a bit of sweat from my face. "Never done that much teleporting before, and my way around the wardings here isn't quite perfect."

"We'll talk about that later." Mick told me, looking around at everyone in the room. "I need a status report, now."

"Doors locked?" Pierce asked. Mary nodded.

"For now." She said grimly. I didn't quite like the sound of that.

"The rest," Morehead said, focusing on the exterior cameras. "They're spreading out, surrounding the building."

"How'd they find us?" Mick asked, looking around at all of us. "How'd they even know who we are?" Nobody quite had an answer. I grimaced, looking back at that containment room.

"Hold on." I muttered, reaching in to my pockets. I needed something to freeze him… Hadn't I tried a freezing spell on Dean a while back, when he was a demon? Yeah, I had. It hadn't worked for long, but it was long enough.

I had the ingredients. It would totally work on a vampire, keep him frozen in place while we asked questions. Definitely would work a lot longer on it that it had on Dean.

I pulled what I needed out of my pockets, just a bit of ground up alumroot. I jumped in to the unit, appearing behind the vampire farthest away from the rest. Male. Hopefully will do.

" _Rigescunt indutae_ ," I whispered, blowing it on him. The others turned in an instant, ready to grab me, but I was able to move fast enough. I got him back out in front of the others, panting heavily.

That was probably it for me on teleporting.

"Ask it," I seethed, returning to sit in my chair. Mick didn't wait to stare confused, he went on to ask the damn thing how in the hell they found us.

And the son of a bitch laughed. "He told us." He said, sounding like he was speaking out of hope and adoration. "He's back to save us all. Our father."

"Your father?" Sam's voice paled. "The… The Alpha?"

"I thought you guys said he was in Morocco!" I shouted, looking around.

"That's where our Intel has him." Serena explained. "He's been there for at least a decade." I sunk in my chair, glaring. Sam looked furious.

"Wrong." He said. "I met him five years ago in Hoople, North Dakota."

"You're dead." The vampire jeered, still laughing at all of us. "You're all dead!" It kept laughing as Mary decapitated it, something that I was extremely grateful for. At this rate, I wasn't quite certain I could've gotten him back in there myself.

"Your, uh, extermination plan," Sam asked, looking around at all of us. "Did it have any contingencies for this?"

"No." Mick admitted gruffly. Sam chuckled quietly.

"Coms are out." Serena reported before turning to me. "What about a scrying spell?" She asked. "If we can get a message to England, bring in reinforcements," I shook my head.

"First off, I'm out for playing 'where's Kylie' for a bit," I started, wiping the sweat off my face again. Unless I wanted to pass out, I wouldn't be showing up and around anywhere unless I was going from unwarded area to unwarded area, and even then it would only be one other person with me at a time. None of that would work.

"We can't wait for backup, anyways." Sam added. Serena looked like she was ready to argue, but Mary cut in.

"No, he's right." Mary defended. "This place was not built for defense, and those doors will not hold long. Okay," she looked around the room. "Who here has ever killed anything?" I raised my hand, as did Pierce. Mary and Sam were the only other ones who had. Mary let out a sigh. "Great."

"All right, we gotta arm up." Sam ordered. "Everybody, weapons on the table. Blades, guns, spells..." We all complied, with me laying out everything I'd had on me for spell ingredients as well as showing him my angel blades. I didn't lay them out on the table though, and Sam didn't make me. He knew I wouldn't give these up, no matter the situation.

All in all, though, we didn't have a lot to work with. "Is this it?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." Mick admitted.

"That's not enough." Mary stated.

"Most of our weapons are in the Armory," Mick explained. "Including the AVD." I'd made that one. Proud of myself for it, too.

"We could set it off in the vents." Mary theorized. "Maximize coverage, use the gas like the bug bomb."

"Will that kill the Alpha?" Mick asked. Sam laughed.

"Kill?" He scoffed. "Doubt it. Hurt? Maybe." He looked at the weapons one more time before turning to me and Mary. "You got anything stronger?" I looked over at Mary, and I could tell she had an idea. Mary turned to Mick.

"Where is it?" She asked. Mick understood automatically, and reached under the table to lift a case on to the table. He opened it quickly, turning it around for Sam and I to see.

Sam exhaled sharply, and I couldn't help but do the same. When had they gotten the Colt? Why didn't I know sooner?

"Where'd you get this?" Sam asked.

"I stole it," Mary admitted. "From Ramiel."

So that had been her mission.

"Yeah, but it doesn't work." Mick said. "We've no bullets."

"Right, right," Sam said, thinking for a moment. "Right, um, okay. We make some, then." He looked over at me for that before turning to Mick. "Got the recipe from my buddy."

"Bobby Singer?" Mary asked.

"Yep." Sam answered. I wished he was alive, I wanted to buy the man a beer. "All right, Mick, Kylie, you're gonna need holy oil, sage, and myrrh. Do you have that here?" I nodded, not even looking at what we had. I knew what I'd brought. Always have a small baggie of holy oil with you. That's, like, rule 1.

"Yeah, we got it all."

"Okay, uh, make a tincture, coat a silver bullet." Sam explained, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from the table. He started scribbling, and handed it to me when he was done. "Use this spell. It'll mimic the original etchings." I read over it. It would work. It would definitely work.

"And that'll work?"

"It will." I promised.

"It better." Sam agreed. "If not, start praying, 'cause we'll need a miracle." I thought of Castiel for a moment when he said that. For once, I was glad he wasn't here. I didn't want him worrying or in danger. "Where's the Armory?" Sam asked.

"I'll take you." Mary promised.

"I got your back." Pierce added. Sam nodded.

"Get to work." He told me, pointing at the entrance. "Keep that door locked."

I nodded, standing up. I looked around for anything that could be a source of food, and saw Mick rummaging through his pockets. He pulled out an apple and tossed it to me. "Why do you have an apple in your jacket pocket?" I asked.

"Why are you able to get in and out of the main room with magic?" He responded. I took a bite out of the apple, nodding. He had a fair point.

I got to work, reading over the spell and instructions as I almost inhaled my snack. I was extremely thankful then that I made Mick keep some spellwork items in here in case I needed to do something in the meeting room. A bowl, a few things for crushing, one or two random ingredients, all useful for making a tincture. It was time-consuming, but if I didn't do it right we were screwed. Serena unloaded silver bullets while Alton stayed on the cameras. I had Mick work the spell with me, and once it was ready he passed me bullets as I went one by one.

" _Signum est imitandum,_ " I whispered, coating the bullet in the mix. " _Signum est imitandum._ " I handed it back to Mick when I was done, and he set it in his pocket. He was about to hand me another bullet when there was loud banging on the door.

"It's me!" Pierce, shouting as though he was about to die. "Open the damn door!" Alton hurried to do so, walking back to the cameras when he was done.

"What happened?" Alton asked. I stopped, then. Something felt wrong. Old. Ancient. Pissed as all hell.

"It's bad out there." Pierce said, but his voice was just as wrong as the room felt. It wasn't scared anymore. It was… almost mocking. I looked up just in time to see a new person stab Alton in the back as they walked in the room, absolute and ancient power radiating from it's very being.

As it retracted it's hand, I saw claws retract back in to the fingernails.

The Alpha Vampire.

"Pretty bad in here, too, huh?" Pierce commented, smiling. Serena shook her head, terrified.

"No!" She shouted, starting to run. She wasn't fast enough, though. The Alpha grabbed her, and I watched as it drank her dry, somehow avoiding getting any blood on its suit.

Once the Alpha finished, he smiled at us.

"I've heard of you," he stated, pointing at me. "You're new. You're different. You have mixed blood." He leaned his head back slightly, inhaling for a long time before smiling again. "It smells delicious." I flicked my wrists instantly at that, and felt both my blades fall back to my palms.

"Told you she was special." Pierce said, grinning at me too.

"Pierce!" Mick shouted, gaining the attention of both of them. "You're a Hunter!"

"Yes," the Alpha agreed. "My hunter. Pierce and I have an arrangement. He keeps me off the radar, and I pay him very, very well."

"Alimony's a bitch." Pierce added.

"I'm old." The Alpha said. "I like living quietly. You've been making my life awfully noisy lately." He looked at me and Mick in turn. "You've killed so many of my children. I've seen your work. In England, I didn't get involved because, well, it's England. But America," he paused, nodding. "Yes. America is my home. And it's time that you get off my lawn."

"Bite me." I hissed. He just laughed.

"Oh, I intend to." The Alpha promised, strutting slowly around the room. I kept Mick behind me, my blades in front of me for defense. Pierce kept his post, though. If I got close enough to him while keeping the Alpha a fair distance away, I would kill that bastard. "Here's what you're going to do," the Alpha stated. "We will bring your communications back online. You will make a call to your superiors in London. You'll admit defeat. You will tell them to cancel this American incursion. Then they'll watch as I devour you," I heard Mick gulp quietly behind me, and knew that the Alpha heard it as well. "Live, onscreen. Hmm, yes, it's a bit messy, but sometimes one does have to make a point."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw blonde and brown hair. A second later Pierce was groaning and falling to the floor. "Don't!" Sam ordered, raising the Colt at the Alpha. The vampire just chuckled.

"Ah, my, my. The Colt. Powerful weapon." He didn't seem too worried about it, though. "Sam, you are aware that there are five creatures on this Earth that gun cannot kill. I'm one of them." I knew that. I also knew he was lying. I'd been doing research trying to figure out the other four things that damn thing couldn't kill.

"Bullshit!" I shouted. "If that were true, we'd all be dead already."

"That gun can't save all of you." The Alpha pointed out, looking from me to Sam.

"Who said I was here to save all of us?" Sam asked. I fought the urge to look at him. "My family and I, we kill vamps when they get out of line. And you've let us."

"I have many children, Sam." The Alpha reminded him. "What's one, two, here or there?"

"Exactly. So? Let my mom and me go." I couldn't help but feel a little hurt at that. "We'll walk away, go back to the way things were, to the way things are supposed to be. Hunters and vampires, cops and robbers, a fair fight."

"And as for the Brit and the witch?" The Alpha asked. Said Brit was still standing behind me.

"You can have the Brit," Sam said. "But we want Kylie."

"Sam," I said cautiously, keeping my eye on the Alpha.

"What are you doing?" Mary finished for me.

"Picking a side." Sam answered. I felt a mixture of happiness and fear. Sam had just picked me to be on his side. Sam wanted me with him and Mary.

For just a moment, I couldn't help but feel the smallest twinge of happiness and hope.

Then Mick did what I thought was the stupidest thing he could've done. He lunged at Sam. "You bastard!" He screamed, his voice full of rage. I looked away at the men for just a second, and Mary was flung sideways by the Alpha. I reacted on instinct then, my body working on autopilot as I threw my blade at the vampire. He moved fast, but not quite exactly fast enough for the blade to miss him entirely. It hit his shoulder, and he smiled that same mocking, emotionless smile before throwing it back at me.

I screamed in pain as it lodged itself in my shoulder, and heard Sam shout for me and Mary as he got away from Mick and leveled the gun again.

I fought the urge to scream again and instead turned to scream at the dumbass that had just made a lunge at the only Hunter in the room over 6 feet tall. "Mick you FUCKING FUCK!" I took deep breaths, deciding to seethe in pain instead of screaming about it, or shouting at Mick more. That would come later, either after we got out of this miraculously alive or when my ghost was screaming at in a way that would scare the most hardcore poltergeist.

"Sam," the Alpha said, turning to look at him almost patronizingly. "You and I both know that gun isn't loaded."

"You sure?" Sam asked, cocking the gun. I looked over at Mick, and saw him smiling at me.

Mick had had the bullet in his pocket.

Mick wasn't a fucking fuck. He was a fucking **_genius_**.

"No." The Alpha said, laughing. It was as emotionless as the rest of him, but he knew. He knew he was done. "Clever, clever boy."

Sam fired once, and the Alpha was down.

He and Mary went to clear the rest of the vampires out while Mick helped me get the angel blade out of my shoulder in a way that wouldn't kill me. "I'm sorry for calling you a fucking fuck." I started.

"No worries." Mick replied, working to clean up the wound so that I could bandage it up and be fine. This wasn't one I was going to be able to heal on my own. Angel blade to the shoulder… That was lucky, but it wouldn't heal with magic. Not unless it was angel magic, and even then if I tried it on myself it would be finicky. I would have to let it heal normally. "And as for your abilities to get in and out of the compound as you please," I interrupted quickly.

"I swear it was just for emergency purposes." I stated. "And it was a bitch to get through all that warding, let me tell you." I whistled a bit for emphasis. "You guys really went all out on it this time." Mick just chuckled.

"I won't tell Ketch if you won't." He promised. I nodded. "Sounds good. And as for your reassignment request," I held my breath, waiting. "I'll have to confer with Ketch more on it, but I see no reason in why you wouldn't be able to work with the angel in finding Lucifer's child." He laughed again. "You may end up making more headway with him than he has been on his own, much less the rest of the Men of Letters back in London."

"Thank you, Mick." I said, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."


	30. Castiel

I left to meet with Castiel after we finished off the rest of the vampires. Sam told me where they knew he was in tracking Dagon (and promised to try and make headway on Dean), and I kind of just showed up at his hotel door a few hours later with my Canada bag slung over my uninjured shoulder (Everything that wasn't in my bag was stashed under the seat of my bike, parked behind the motel), his favorite food (peanut butter and jelly sandwiches) and a large bottle of soda. No real plan or actual heads-up for Cas, I just stood outside his hotel room and realized exactly what I was doing. I was still a bit beat up (my shoulder was wrapped up quite nicely, thanks to Mick, but it was still jacked up), I hadn't even showered, I KNOW I had at least three different bloodstains on my shirt alone, and all I was bringing with me was cheap as shit food.

"Maybe I should shower, at least." I murmured, looking down at myself. Then again, I was already there. I couldn't quite turn around when I was right in front of his door. I knocked hesitantly, and when I heard him come to the door I almost forgot to breath.

The second it opened he crushed me in a hug, and I fought back a wince at my still-injured shoulder being involved in said crushing. "You're here," he whispered, burying his face in my hair. I nodded, wrapping my arms around him as best I could.

"I'm here." I agreed. "To stay, if that's alright."

"Yes," he agreed, nodding. "Of course."

"I brought food." I offered. He still held me close. "And my shoulder is actually a little injured." Castiel let go immediately, examining my shoulder. That was when he actually noticed it was bandaged, about halfway concealed by the shirt I wore.

"I'm sorry." He said immediately. "I didn't see it at first."

"It's no worries." I said, wishing I hadn't brought it up in the first place now.

"How did you hurt it?"

"I… It's a long story." I said. "But I'm here now and if you don't mind I'd like to sit down and eat with you."

"Yes, yes, please come in." He looked a little flustered and uncertain, but he was still happy. "How are you doing?"

"Pretty good." I said, walking in to take a seat in the nearest chair. I looked around the room. Small, but not half bad for a cheap-ass motel. Livable. "We just finished with Project V yesterday, and we took out the Alpha Vamp."

"Is that how your shoulder was injured?" He asked, moving to take a better look at it.

"Might've been," I said, smirking. Castiel gave me an unamused look, and I caved. "I may have thrown an angel blade at said Alpha, and nailed him square in the shoulder by the way," I added, my voice rushed. "However he may have decided to just throw it back at me."

"This was caused by an angel blade?" He asked. I nodded. "And you're not…" He stopped, remembering a few things.

"Witchiness plus angelic grace makes me hard to kill, I guess." I said. "Didn't stop it from hurting like a bitch, though."

"But besides that, you're alright?"

"Oh yeah, I'm downright spiffy." I said, nodding enthusiastically with it. Castiel just shook his head, smiling.

"I missed that." He admitted quietly.

"What, my crappy old-school lingo that I use?"

"You smiling," he explained. "Even when you're probably in a lot of pain and swearing up a storm, you still smile." I couldn't help but smile at that, at how well he knew me. He pointed for a moment at my face, right around where my mouth was. "Like that."

"You're too sweet." I stated. We both sat in our respective spots, staring at each other like… Like… Like nothing else mattered around us, and we were in our own world where there wasn't any war or fears or Nephilim or problems, just us in our own sort of small, pure bubble of happiness.

Like I was Kylie, and he was Castiel, and we both just were in love with each other. We both just… just loved each other so much.

I moved my sleeve out of the way, and Castiel paused for maybe a moment before putting a hand over it. In a matter of minutes, there was nothing left of the wound but a scar. "I'm sorry I can't make it disappear entirely," he said. "Angel blade wounds are different than those of a normal weapon."

"Don't worry about it." I assured him, rolling back down my sleeve. "Are you OK? How have you been?"

"I am fine." He promised. "The hunt for Kelly has gone… less than well, but I'm still working on getting closer."

"How are you, though?" I asked. "I mean, how are you as you?"

"I'm alright." He said, nodding. "Yes, I'm much better now."

"Good." I offered him the food. "You hungry?"

"You remember that, as a celestial being, I physically cannot feel hunger nor have any need to eat, correct?" He asked. I blanched a little, withdrawing the bag of PB&J sandwiches.

"Sorry," I muttered. "It was just a thought. They're your favorite and I didn't want to just show up out of the blue without anything, you know?"

"I am just making a joke with you." He replied, gently taking the bag from me. "Thank you. You didn't have to bring anything." I shrugged.

"I didn't know what else to do." I stated. "It was bring food or feel like a bad guest."

"You are the best guest." He assured me.

That was how the rest of the evening went. We sat, we talked, we laughed, and we just… We were two normal people that hadn't seen each other in a very long time. We didn't worry about work or Hunting. We just talked. He asked more about college and what that had been like. I asked more about how he was adjusting to life on earth. It was just…

It was perfect.

It was exactly what we had both missed.

Once it hit the late AM's I finally let out a yawn, and Castiel checked the time. "You should sleep." He said.

"When do I ever?" I asked in response. He just raised an eyebrow at me. "What? You don't sleep!"

"I don't need to sleep."

"Neither do I."

"We both know that that isn't quite true."

"Give me a few pep pills and I'll be up all night." I offered. Cas rolled his eyes.

"Yes, actually, I remember that," he reminded me. "You lasted three days before you fell asleep for a full 24 hours in my room with me, leaving a stack of five different books and your laptop at the Bunker table to go back to later." He had me there. I hadn't even realized I'd slept an entire day away until he woke me up afterwards to make sure I was still alive.

"I don't have a leg to stand on here, do I?" I asked.

"Actually, you have two." He kept a straight face with that, and I couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. But when he cracked a small smile, I laughed.

"You had me!" I exclaimed, pointing at him. "Oh my gosh, Castiel, master of sass and wit. I didn't expect to see this!"

"I will take that as a compliment." He decided. "And I still think that you need sleep."

"Yeah, yeah." I muttered, nodding. I turned to my bag, rooting around for a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a shirt to sleep in. Then I paused, feeling the urge to double check one last time. "You don't mind that I sleep here, right?"

"Of course not." Castiel assured me. "Actually, if you will wait a moment, I have something for you." Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow as he walked to his dresser, and pulled something out. When he turned around, I almost froze.

It was a dress shirt. The one he'd handed me years ago, after I'd gone through a bottle of pep pills trying to stay up and do research. I'd gone with him to his room, hadn't had any pajamas, and he'd tossed it to me. I'd just kind of kept wearing it to sleep after that until, well… Until Lucifer, and I'd had to leave it behind.

I hadn't seen it since then.

"It still suits you better than it did me." He said. "If you don't want it, don't feel pressured to. I just... I couldn't quite wear it myself after seeing the clothing on you." He explained. "It didn't look as right on me." He looked away, a little sheepish. I smiled, holding up a hand. The shirt flew from his grasp to mine, and I smiled at the expression on his face.

"It'll be comfier than anything I have." I pointed out. Castiel looked relieved as I stuffed my own shirt back in to my backpack, and disappeared in to his small bathroom. Once I had the small space to myself, I took a moment to relax against a wall and think. I felt like I was back at home. Not the home I'd grown up in, with my mom and dad and siblings, but instead with Castiel. The sense of home and belonging that I had felt with him whenever I was with him, before everything had happened, it had come back as though it never left.

Home was with him, like this. And I finally had my home back. I hadn't felt like this when I was with the Men of Letters, or when I'd been in the cabin. The closest I'd gotten was living with Mrs. Tran, but that was a different sort of home. That was the kind of home where I knew I could always come back, but at the same time leaving for Hunting hadn't been something I'd been entirely against. It was more of a home base, a reminder that I wasn't completely alone. With the cabin, it was always a rest stop; always a temporary stay without any permanent plans in my mind. And with the Men of Letters, it was a sense of acceptance, but not home. I felt comfortable, I felt happy, I felt safe and successful, but it wasn't home. It was… just a job I was really good at.

With Castiel, I was finally home. I felt relaxed and happy.

I took a moment to take a shower first, grateful to get the dirt and grime and vampire off of me. From there I got dressed for bed, brushed my teeth, and walked out feeling as though everything was completely right. It wasn't a back to normal feeling, or a reverting to my past. It was a feeling of being able to move forwards confidently, and without fear. Cas and I could do this.

I felt good about that.

Castiel's face was an almost perfect imitation of that look from the first time he handed me the dress shirt, right down to the slack-jawed expression with it. "You gonna stay up a while longer?" I asked.

"I… I think I may lie down for a few minutes, if you don't mind."

"No problem!" With that, I made myself comfortable on the bed, moving to my usual side. Castiel joined me a little bit later, the biggest smile on his face. I didn't ask what it was for, I already knew. I was wearing a matching smile myself, after all.

It felt nice, being cuddled back up to him. I felt comfortable, warm, happy. Castiel's hands rested gently on my back, offering a small squeeze of a hug for a moment.

"Kylie?" He asked.

"Yeah?"

"I want to make you a promise." He stated.

"Why?"

"Because this is one that needs to be said, and one that I intend on keeping." His voice was serious. I sat up from his embrace a little, looking him in the eyes.

"What's wrong, Cas?" I asked.

"You were right." He said. "You are a different person than the one I moved in to an apartment with. It does not mean I love you any less, though," he said that sentence quickly, almost afraid that I would misconstrue his words. "But it means that I am aware of who you are now. You're more…" He thought for a moment. "No, you're not more of anything," he corrected. "It's the same you, just with different aspects heightened now, and in different ways. Headstrong. Intelligent. Aware. Wary." He paused for a moment. "You smile differently. Less pure happiness, more in acknowledgement."

"You're not making a lot of sense." I pointed out.

"I'm sorry. Let me try again." He took a breath, reorganizing the words in his head. "You have become more serious and still more headstrong, as though you aged fifty years inside your mind." That, I understood clearer. I nodded for him to continue. "And in acknowledgement of you being different, I know that our relationship will probably be different, but I do still want one." His hand moved to my neck, lightly pulling on the chain until the ring was revealed. "Do you?"

"Yeah." I agreed. "I do. I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

"Then I want this time to be different." He said. "I don't want us to be leaving each other without speaking with the other first. I don't want either of us to feel abandoned or hurt."

"You want us to be in this together, united." I summed up. He nodded.

"I want to do better." He added. "I don't want to leave you like I did, or make you feel as though you need to leave me. I want us to work together, and to want to work together. So I am promising you," he gripped the ring tightly, pressing it in to his palm. "That I will be in this together with you, as long as you will have me with you. I will not abandon you or stop communicating with you. I will rectify the mistakes of the past so that we may move forwards as a stronger couple. I want us… To be a better us. A stronger us." He looked up at me, his gaze staring deep in to mine. "And I promise you that I will work towards that; that I will work to rectify what happened."

"And in return," I took a small breath. "I promise to not disappear and violate your memory like that again. I know that was an absolutely awful thing to do," I said. "And I felt awful every day that I did that to you. I don't want to leave either, I want this to work and for us to be us again with our new differences." He smiled at that. "We're in this together. You and me."

"You and me." Castiel agreed. I smiled, leaning down to kiss him. His hand found its way to my hair automatically, deepening the kiss. He smiled against my lips afterwards, looking absolutely happy.

"Thank you." He whispered. I settled back in to sleep, my head on his chest.

"I'm just happy to be with you again." I admitted. "I missed you."

"I missed you as well." Castiel let his hands rest gently on my back again, and I smiled. It had been a long day, but this made it all worth it right here.

I fell asleep with ease, still smiling.

When I woke up, though, it was difficult. Castiel was asleep, which shocked me immensely for about a second. He was squirming, shaking his head. He looked scared, his eyes clenched shut tightly.

"Cas," I whispered, shaking him. He kept squirming, kept shaking his head. "Castiel. Cas, wake up, you're dreaming. Cas!" I shook him a little harder. He woke up startled, his eyes flickering around the room until he saw me and grasped my shoulders.

"Kylie," he said, breathing heavily. "Kylie, you're alive. You're OK."

"Of course I am, Cas." I promised. "What's wrong? You don't need sleep."

"I have been… indulging in it." He said. "I missed the human activity of sleeping, so I learned how to imitate it even though I do not require it."

"And you… you dream?"

"Sometimes, yes." He admitted.

"Are you alright?" I asked. "Nightmare?"

"Yes." He said.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"I… I don't know."

"Well, how about this," I sat up straight, leaning my back against the headboard. Castiel followed suit, sitting up next to me. "Remember when Kevin died? And I was having awful nightmares?"

"Yes."

"And you stayed with me, we stayed up and talked until I fell asleep again."

"Yes."

"If you'd like, we don't have to talk about your nightmare." I offered. "We can just… Just talk about whatever."

"OK." He agreed, thinking for a moment. "You stopped having nightmares. How do you do it?"

"Well, it's in part because I kind of have to stop." I explained. "My magic is tied in part to my emotions just as much to my intent and cognitive brain. When I fall asleep, if I have nightmares," I remembered the first few nights of living with Mrs. Tran. I had to put spellwork around the room after I woke up in the middle of the first night. I'd almost drowned out the room, which I was thankful for because it was either that, a cyclone, or a bit of flame action. Water damage could be fixed a lot easier, at least for me. After that, I'd had to put enchantments on myself and the area until I got it under control. "If I don't set things up beforehand, I kind of trash the area."

"So what did you do?"

"I enchanted a small vial and wore it around my neck at night." I said. "It was easier that way. Any magic I did in my sleep was redirected to the vial, and there were safeguards in the room to make sure it was safe if there was any overflow. And once I woke up, I emptied out the vial in to Mrs. Tran's garden." I smiled. "She never knew why it suddenly looked better than the neighbors, but those neighbors were insanely jealous."

"Wow."

"Yeah. And once the vial started turning up empty every night, I stopped doing it. Still put the safeguards up in rooms, though." I shrugged. "Just in case."

"Do you still have the vial?" I stood up after that, and turned on the lights as Iwent to my Canada bag. I pulled it out from a small side pocket, and held it up for him to see. "I keep it on me no matter what." I said. "Just in case it happens again."

"How come you didn't put up wardings in here?"

"I don't have nightmares with you." I said. "I don't know why, I just… They don't happen with you." It was true. I hadn't had a nightmare any time I slept beside him. He'd woken me up from plenty, but he was never in the room with me when they happened. I'd always chocked it up to him just being… Him.

I put it back in my bag, and walked over to the bed once more. "Do you ever fear that you will need to wear it again?"

"Yeah," I admitted, crawling to sit back beside him. "But I have it in case I ever lose control. I don't want to become a…. a thing that Sam and Dean would have to hunt. This is what would protect everyone else from that ever happening."

"It won't." Castiel assured me. "You are not a bad thing."

"I'm a witch." I said, shrugging. "If I'm not careful, I'm dead." We both sat in silence for a while, the heavy weight of those words resting over both of us.

No. This wasn't how this was supposed to work. We were supposed to relax with each other, this was supposed to be calming not making us feel worse. "What's your favorite color?" I asked. He laughed. "What?" I asked, laughing a little myself. "What's so funny?"

"I asked you the same question," he answered, still laughing a little bit. "After I woke you from your nightmare. You told me it was red." He looked over at my hair.

"That's why I dyed it this." I said. "I always thought I would be a better redhead than a blonde."

"I miss the blonde." Cas admitted. "But I do like the change as well."

"Thanks." I smiled, casting him a sideways glance. "It doesn't make me look too much like Rowena?"

"Not at all."

"I could probably do that, if I wanted to try to." I pointed out. "Make myself look like Rowena, or any other person for that matter. It's just a question of figuring out the right spellwork in tandem with the right physics."

"I actually understand what you're talking about." Castiel said. "Angels and some of our powers work in the same way."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Huh." I thought on that. "Never really put two and two together in my head."

"What did you think it was?"

"God magic." We both laughed at that.

"God magic?" Castiel asked.

"Seriously. God magic." I confirmed. "And you never answered my original question. What's your favorite color?"

"Brown."

"Like your coat or like your truck?"

"Like dirt." He answered.

"Why dirt?"

"It's simple." He said. "Natural. Calming and peaceful."

"Nice. What about… Hmmm…. What kind of music do you like?"

"Dean loaned me a tape of Led Zeppelin songs that I enjoy." He said.

"Really? You got Stairway to Heaven on that tape?"

"I believe so, yes." I laughed a little again.

"Dean's got a sense of humor." I decided.

"I like it." Castiel defended.

"I do too." I agreed. "It's a nice song. Calming and peaceful." I mimicked his tone as I said it. We stayed silent for a bit until Castiel spoke again.

"Kylie," his voice changed, and I could feel hesitancy in it. "Do you… Do you think that I keep failing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly that. I feel as though I continue to fail at endeavors I attempt." He explained. "And I don't want to. I work so hard to do well and succeed but… It just doesn't work."

"I still think you succeed." I stated.

"You do?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

"Well, lets put things in to perspective." I offered. "Name something you think you failed at."

"Keeping track of Kelly."

"Dude, she's a pregnant woman." I said. "She's all hormonal and shit, and knowing she's Lucifer's baby momma probably isn't helping. She's doing what any woman would do, trying to figure out her shit and do what she thinks is right." I shrugged. "Not your fault. Not a failure. Besides, you're not even done with trying to find her yet, so you can't make conclusive decisions on whether you've done good or not."

"What about keeping you alive?"

"Which time?" I offered a small smirk, but he didn't share the joke this time. "Cas, I'm my own individual person. You can't control what I do or consider me a failure or success. We're just… People. Doing our own things."

"But I did fail you. Multiple times." Castiel argued. "I failed to keep you alive, to keep you safe, to marry you," he shook his head. "I did fail there."

"Trial and error." I said. "You do your best, you do what you think is right and hope for the best. It's an entirely human quality, and you're still figuring out the kinks. It takes time."

"I am older than you, and Sam and Dean, yet you three seem to have a firm handle on doing the right thing correctly."

"We've been doing it longer." I pointed out. "You've been on Earth, what? Eight years, give or take?" I shrugged. "I've been on Earth doing this for over 20, and Sam and Dean have been for easily over 35. We have more practice. You've only got eight years of doing this, and trust me, no eight-year-old does the right thing correct all the time."

"Still," he sounded wistful. I cut him off before he could finish his thought.

"Cas, you're doing something good right now." I said. "You're looking for Kelly. You're trying to save her as well as everyone else from Lucifer's damn kid. And as far as I can tell, it hasn't turned to bad just yet. You're you," I reached down to grasp his hand. He looked at it, rubbing his thumb slowly across my knuckles. "And you're just doing the best you can in a world you weren't technically built to inhabit, you know? You're an angel. You were made to follow orders originally, not give them or take initiative. And I've gotta say," I squeezed his hand a little. "For defying your factory settings and going all I, Robot on the world, you're not doing a half bad job. You're just doing the best you can."

"Thank you." He said, and he sounded like he meant it; like he believed what I was saying. "Do you think that… That I can succeed this time?"

"I don't place bets or fall in love with people who I don't believe can do good." I replied. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't believe in you."

"You always have believed." He commented. "Even when things were at their darkest, you always had faith in me."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I believe my track record speaks for itself."

"Yeah, well, I guess I'm not smart enough to see that as relevant, then." I offered.

"You are extremely intelligent."

"Then I guess your track record isn't relevant." I reiterated. "Besides, if you really wanna run track records, look at mine." I held up my free hand, counting off my history. "I couldn't save my family, and ran when they died." That was one. "I didn't call Dean for months after you first gave me his number, because I didn't believe he existed or could help." Two. "I was supposed to guard Kevin and we both got captured." Three. "I died afterwards because I was too stubborn to not go." Four. "And now I'm kind of somewhat OK friends with the guy that killed my family and tried to kill me until he actually succeeded because of aforementioned stubbornness." That was five. I was gonna need another hand if I wanted to continue. "I've got a pretty fucked track record myself, Cas. And Sam and Dean aren't any better." I closed my fist and made a new list. "Demon blood, Mark of Cain, selling their souls, trusting Metatron, aaaaaaand trusting Gadreel, to name a few." I closed my fist again, and let it rest back beside me. "Everyone does the right things for the right reasons, at least in their minds. Everyone tries to do good and get the best outcomes from it, to get a win or a success. But everyone also fails a few times in their life, and sometimes you get in a failing streak. It sucks." I shrugged. "But it happens. You just gotta keep doing your best until you finally break your slump."

"And what do I do after I 'break my slump,' as you put it?" He asked.

"What do you want to do?"

"I would like to take you out for dinner." He said. "When this is all over. No magic. No angels. No demons. No Nephilim. No… Hunting." He decided. "None of any of this. Just us, as an ordinary human couple."

"You realize we're both the absolute farthest things from ordinary, right?"

"Yes," he agreed. "But… I liked being human." His eyes stayed forwards, and he smiled a little as he focused not on the beige wall in front of him, but on a memory. "I liked being human with you, and leading a human life. I felt like… Like I truly was doing the right thing again, without the worries of failure."

"But that's not what life is." I pointed out.

"What do you mean?"

"Life is about failing," I explained. "It's about making mistakes and screwing up and making a complete ass out of yourself, but at the end of the day…" I thought for a moment. "You pick yourself back up, dust yourself off, and you keep trying."

"How do you remain so optimistic?"

"AP physics." I answered. "That was the worst year of my life."

"Really?"

"No." He laughed. "It was a pain in the ass, though. I think the only reason I passed was because I brought the teacher brownies during tutoring sessions. Other than that, though, it sucked. I hated it, but now I understand it, and I can put it with chemistry and magic to do, well," I looked around the room for a moment, trying to find a specific thing. The light switch. That would work. I grabbed a piece of paper from the nightstand and crumpled it in to a small ball before throwing it at the opposite wall as hard as I could. With the help of magic, as hard as I could turned in to being able to make one wall to bouncing it off of all four before it hit the light switch, effectively shutting it off.

"You could've just done that with magic." He pointed out.

"You can feel it." I answered. "I know you can, like how I can. Do you really think that?" He didn't answer for a moment.

"No." He said. "No, you didn't. You're right, I can feel it."

"Yeah." I flicked my index finger towards the light switch, and it flipped back on. "That time I used magic though."

"How does it feel?" He asked. "Doing that? Knowing how to use your magic?"

"Good." I said. "Like a switch flipped in my head. I could see things differently, once I finally got the hang of it. Like…" There was no good way to explain what I saw now, like how I saw the current from the light switch through the wall to the bulb and the opportunities with it. Turning off and on the light from the switch itself, amplifying the current to a point that would make the bulb burst, completely destroying the circuit or changing just one part of it so that the light is filtered in to another room, all without moving from my seat. I could unscrew the bulb and screw it in somewhere else, or light a fire inside of it that could sustain itself until I left, never destroying the bulb or the filaments inside but burning brighter than the electricity could ever do.

And that was just with the simple lights. That wasn't including anything about the air around us, the water and combustibility and little bits of dust and dirt all swirling within it. That wasn't including the furniture and how easy it would be to warp and twist and burn and change. That wasn't including the feel and thrum of magic and power just under my own fingertips, awaiting the moment I needed to leave and be somewhere else, be it outside the window or the room or in a whole other state.

There was no good way that I could ever explain that to him.

"Like the individual molecules have all become apparent to you." Castiel said. "And you can see more than you ever thought you would."

"Yeah." That was a good way. "Is it the angel grace or just… me?"

"I don't know." He told me honestly. "Does it matter?"

"I don't know either." I admitted.

"Are you happy as who you are?"

"Yeah."

"You wouldn't change it?"

"Not even a little bit." I said. "I made my peace with my past. I've made my peace with who I am now, and I feel better for it. Just because I'm a witch doesn't make me automatically bad." I smiled at that. "And just because you've made mistakes before doesn't mean they'll happen again."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Castiel glancing outside. The sun was starting to rise. "I kept you awake." He stated. "For much longer than I probably should have."

"Eh, I don't mind." I smiled over at him. "Besides, we've got things to do, don't we? Finding Kelly, figuring things out, whole nine."

"Are you sure you do not require more rest?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Alright." We both sat there for a while in comfortable silence, waiting for the sun to fully come up and shine through the windows. It was nice, talking like this and being with each other and just… Just us. Just being us and being together and not really having to worry too much. It was relaxing.

I looked at the light with curiosity. I hadn't really ever tried to mess with light before, I didn't think I could. Then again, I could mess with fire. I could mess with electricity. Angel magic caused me to exude light if I healed myself or another person (which was very rare. I still didn't have a complete understanding as to how to use it all properly, save for the small bits here and there). Could I change the light entirely? The sun is just one big ball of fire, after all.

Then again, did I want to?

I chose to move the dust and dirt in the air instead until it created shapes in the shadows on the floor. I made wings first, but that was too easy. I wanted to challenge myself, to put forward effort and see what I could do.

"Hey, Cas?" The words formed in the shadows as well, and I could see his gaze fixed on them.

"Yes?"

"Do you have a favorite book?" I asked. "Or song? I know that Metatron forced all of that information in your head, but I was curious."

"I quite enjoy a song from a mixtape that Dean gave me."

"Dean gave you a mixtape?" Music notes filled the shadows on staves, rolling across the limited expanse of light that they had.

"Yes." He nodded. "A small compilation of Led Zeppelin songs."

"Is Stairway to Heaven on there?" The shadows formed in to a small stairway, leading up in to a pretty good looking group of shadow clouds.

"Yes." I laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Just that song." I said. "And that it's on a tape Dean gave you."

"I don't think I understand the reference you're making."

"I'll explain it on the road." I promised. "But which one is your favorite?"

"I don't really know." He admitted.

"Well, then name one off the track." He thought for a moment.

"I enjoy the simplicity of 'Nobody's Fault But Mine.'" He finally said.

"Ok." I pulled out my phone and did a quick search for the song. A few minutes later, it was playing through my small cell speakers.

 _Nobody's fault but mine_

 _Nobody's fault but mine_

 _Trying to save my soul tonight_

 _It's nobody's fault but mine_

The shadows started dancing with the lyrics, first turning in to the image of a person running. They shifted in to him jumping for something, an eye, before missing and falling down through the light.

 _Devil he told me to roll_

 _Devil he told me to roll_

 _How to roll the log tonight_

 _Nobody's fault but mine_

The shadow person hit an imaginary sense of earth, and started rolling as a pitchfork rose behind it. He stood up, and in a quick motion jumped again to reach for a large log. This time, though, the shadow man reached it.

 _Brother he showed me the gong_

 _Brother he showed me the ding dong ding dong_

 _How to kick that gong to light_

 _Oh, it's nobody's fault but mine_

The shadow swung it's log at a gong, sending it sailing out of the light and shadows I controlled until it reached what appeared to be the edges, and exploded in its own version of light.

 _Got a monkey on my back_

 _Got a monkey on my back_

 _Gonna change my ways tonight_

 _Nobody's fault but mine_

The log transformed in to a monkey, holding the eye above the person's head just out of reach. It jumped up and down, beating the person down until it got smart and grabbed the monkey. Once it did, it fought him for the eye, struggling to acquire the idol.

 _I will get down rollin' tonight_

Once he had the eye in his own grip, the monkey dissolved in to dust and dirt before disappearing from the light.

 _Nobody's fault_

The eye was thrown in to the air, until it was the only thing left to see in my own shadows. I dissipated them after a few moments, smiling at my handiwork. I couldn't control light like that, but I could control the shadows it created. Castiel looked over at me.

"Why did you do that?" He asked.

"I didn't know if I could." I admitted. "And now I know."

"So now that you know, what do you do?" I felt as though he wasn't talking about the shadows anymore. I looked over at him, leaned over, and kissed him. Once I pulled away, I smiled.

"I get up and get dressed." I said. "And move on to the next thing." I got up and started getting ready for the day, almost to punctuate my words. Castiel waited a while until he spoke again.

"You may be a different Kylie," he finally decided. "But you've got the same stubborn determination, as well as the same curiosity."

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow. He got up and came in close, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

"No." He said. "It's one of the things I love about you."


	31. The Hunt is On

We were on our way to a possible lead somewhere out in Connecticut. I'd called in a satellite tracking and the Men of Letters were almost absolutely certain that they had a solid image of her staying there as of yesterday. We had made a late-night stop just inside the state's borders for gas when it happened. I was out in the back, trying to cast some sort of tracking spell to double check on Kelly's location.

You know, I really, really, really, really, REALLY hate witchbags. They fucking suck.

I fell the second the witchbags touched me, about to cry out in pain before a hand clamped over my mouth. It was cold, and felt… Wrong.

"Shut your mouth, little witch." A voice I didn't know, snarling behind me. "Or I'll slice your throat and drink you dry."

Vampire.

How in the hell did I not sense it?!

My hands were brought roughly behind my back, and I fought back another shout as my hands were tied to two more witchbags.

"Now you're going to come with me, all nice and quiet-like," the vampire ordered. I still hadn't seen it's fucking face yet. "Or I'll tell my friends in the gas station to gut your angel." He pivoted me around harshly, and I could finally see it's face.

"I watched you die." I whispered, unable to hold back the surprise. The male vampire I'd frozen, back at the compound… The one that Mary had killed… This one looked just like him. Same face. Same eyes. Same hair.

"That would be my brother that you helped slaughter." The vampire told me. "Did you even learn his name before you killed him? Because I know yours." His smile was almost wolfish. "And I'm gonna make sure you learn the name of every one of my family members before you finally get to die."

I spat in its face. "Fuck off."

"Bitch!" He slashed at my face, and I bit my tongue. I wasn't going to let him hear how much that hurt. I wasn't going to give him any more of an excuse to try and go after Cas. "Now you're going to shut your mouth," he ordered. "Or I'll rip it off of you."

I spat in his face again, just one more time, and then it was lights out for me.

Who knew vampires had a decent sucker punch?

The thing woke me up with a splash of cold water to the face. My hands were still tied behind my back, but now also attached to a chair. The witchbags in my hands were gone, but I could still feel one attached directly under a chair. I let out a long stream of air, fighting off waves of dizziness.

"Good morning, witch bitch." The vampire crooned, splashing more water on me. I sputtered for a moment, shaking my head to clear the water from my eyes.

"Is it morning already?" I asked, looking around. There were no windows for me to tell. The room was almost completely dark, save for the few dim lights in the room. "You know, I can't tell. If you could open a window or show me a clock or something, I might be able to figure it out."

"You're still a smart ass." He muttered. "We're gonna fix that." He slashed at my shoulder, and I could feel it start to bleed automatically. I ground my teeth together, glaring up at the vampire.

"You swing like my sister." I said, smirking. "How long have I been here?"

"Does it matter?" He asked. "You're still gonna die here."

"It matters for what you probably want from me." I was not going to let these witchbags get the better of me, goddammit. I took a few deep breaths. "And also so I can tell you when my boyfriend is going to be here."

"He's not coming for you." The vampire argued.

"Oh, really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me how long I've been here and I'll tell you how long it'll take for him to get here."

"You've been here for hours, cunt." He stated. "If he wasn't coming for you earlier, he ain't coming for you now."

"Hours, huh?" I asked. "He'll be here in twenty minutes, at the most. I can guarantee it."

"I doubt it."

"I'll bet my life on it." I offered, wiggling my hands as quietly as I could. There had to be some sort of give in these, there had to be. If I could get my hands free and get away from this damn witchbag, I could do something. Anything. "Twenty minutes, and you'll see someone burst through that door in front of me. If not," I did my best to shrug. There was absolutely no give in the ties in my wrist, and even then after that I'd have to contend with the ones at my feet. "You kill me."

"I'll kill you when I please." He replied. "Besides, I want something from you first?"

"Which is?"

"Two things." He walked away a little bit. "You're going to learn my brother's name, and remember it."

"You gotta tell me the name first to try and remember."

"And you're going to give me your phone password." For emphasis, he pulled my cell out of his pocket and wiggled it. I fought back a smile. He had my phone. He was screwed. I showed Cas how to run a trace on my phone. He'd find me.

"Really?" I raised my eyebrows at him. "You want my goddamn phone password?"

"You're going to call your Men of Letters superiors," he explained. "And tell them the vampires of America want their fucking country back."

"Yeah, I'm not doing that." I argued, shaking my head.

"You forget," he set down my phone on a table behind him, and grabbed something else. When he turned around, I felt sick from just looking at them. Two more witchbags. "I came prepared."

"Mind if I ask how you got those?" I asked, doing my best to keep my composure. Two more touching me again, and I'd probably be dead. The only thing that had kept me alive originally was the angel grace running through me. I doubted it would keep me that way for long, though. Not with two more of those infernal fucking things put on me.

"You've garnered a lot of hate pretty fast." He said. "And not just from vampires. Other witches hate you just as badly."

"Eh." I shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a person people tend to hate out of envy."

"You're a cocky bitch aren't you?" He asked. I pretended to think for a moment before nodding. He let out a rough, barky laugh before turning back to his table again. I waited for him to do something, anything. Instead of seeing him turn around, I heard a loud bang. My leg exploded in pain, and this time I couldn't help but scream. When he turned around, I saw a pistol in one hand and one of my angel blades in the other.

That fucker felt me up!

But the bullet… Only one thing hurt that bad. Not a normal shot. The same ones the government lackeys had been shooting at me with, when we were after Lucifer. The ones with witchbags built in.

"Where," I took a few deep breaths. "Did you get those bullets?"

"Same witch that gave me the bags." He answered, wiggling it around. "I've got seven more rounds to fire off too, in this clip." He smirked. "And another clip in case the first doesn't quite make you understand."

"And," more heavy breathing. What was this, like, 1 ½ witch bags on me right now, approximately? "What am I supposed to understand."

"That you're going to die the way I want you to." He answered. "And that you're going to do whatever I ask you to do along the way."

"Bite me." I hissed.

"I may just yet." He answered. "And make you starve to death. Now my brother's name," he leveled the gun at me again, and I couldn't quite tell where he was aiming. "I want to hear you say it."

"You still have to tell me it." I reminded him.

"It was Rodney." He answered. "It was fucking Rodney."

"Fucking is an interesting first name." I stated. Another shot, and I screamed again. My other leg – both of my shins, now – had a bullet hole in it.

"RODNEY!" He shouted again, stepping closer. He slid the blade lightly across my arm, not enough to cut but enough to raise the hairs. "His name was RODNEY!"

"Knee-rod?" I tried. He pressed harder with the blade, and a new gash appeared in my upper left arm.

"Say his name." The vampire hissed, walking behind me. I could feel the muzzle press in to the back of my shoulder. "Say my brother's name."

"Try the phone thing." I offered. "See if that works."

"Not yet." He whispered. "Not until you break and say my brother's name."

"You're going to need more bullets." I answered, resigning myself to my fate. Another shot, and I howled again.

"I've got an eternity that I can do this for." He answered. "And I'm just getting started." I blinked my eyes a few times, trying to clear the black spots. I could either pass out and let him win, or keep awake and live through more torture.

"Why is this so important to you?" I could feel an idea forming in the back of my head, but I wanted all the information I could get first. "This sort of retaliation is pretty damn rare, after all." The vampire just laughed.

"You're a disgrace to your kind, you know that?" He asked.

"What, humankind?"

"No, your kind." He repeated. "Our kind. The supernatural kind. Werewolves and vampires and demons and kitsune and witches," he walked around to stand in front of me, leveling my angel blade at my throat. "Our kind."

"What makes you think I'm one of you?"

"You're a witch." He responded. "You're not normal."

"You know, I had the same feelings of being not normal when I was 13, too." I pointed out. "I dyed my hair, I got the tattoo, I wore dark emo clothing. You know," I would've pointed with my hands at this stage, were they not bound behind me. "I think I even had the phrase 'I'm not normal' on a black T-shirt, written out in a really weird and cool font. But then I turned 16." I raised an eyebrow at him. His response was to take my angel blade and bury it deep where I had been previously stabbed. I screamed again at that.

"I just…" I took a few panting breaths, keeping myself as calm as possible. If I could survive Crowley's torture, AND the fucking devil, I could beat this two-bit vampire. "Got that… Stab wound… healed… you… bastard."

"There's a price out on your head, witch." He replied. "You and that shifter Louis. All across the supernatural world. We all know who you are, and what you've done. Everyone wants you dead for working with the Brits." I stored away the question I wanted to ask about the shifter, and asked something else.

"But not for… with… the Winchesters?"

"They've got a few death wishes on them, but nothing as hefty as yours." He laughed a little. "You actively worked to take out our entire species." He pressed his lips together tightly. "It was genocide that you helped commit, and you were going to go on past that region for the whole continent. First vampires, then whatever else you were told to next."

"Where's your proof?"

"Our father showed us what you were doing." He answered. "Before you and Sam Winchester slaughtered him too." He leveled the blade at my throat. "You're more of a monster than me or my brother ever were. You've turned your back on your own kind." He pressed, just enough for it to hurt but not enough to break the skin. "Now tell me my brother's name, you bitch." I took some shallow breaths, trying to figure out my times.

"You want me… to speak?" I asked. "You want me… to talk to my… bosses? Tell them your… brother's name… too?" I took a deep breath. "Fine. Is my phone on?"

"You're already breaking?" He sounded surprised.

"It's break or die." I replied. "And I'm not in the mood to die… Not just yet. Now tell me, is my phone on?"

"Yes."

"How much time has passed?"

"Why?"

"Because I…" I laughed. I couldn't help it. I laughed, right in his stupid face. "I promised 20 minutes." I answered, looking at the doorway in front of me. "And you're about to be screwed."

"You're bluffing."

"Try me." I kept laughing. "You think… That someone like me can go missing… and my bosses aren't going… to come for me? You thought…" I took a break from the laughter. "That an angel… wouldn't be able to find me?" I spat in his face again, and definitely saw some blood in with it. "You're a bigger… idiot… than I fucking thought."

"I don't see anyone coming through." The vampire replied, but his voice seemed nervous. He definitely took a step or two away from the door, leveling the gun at me.

"Three." I counted down, raising my voice just a little bit. My phone was on. That was all I needed. I was supposed to check in with Mick and Ketch about two hours after the vamp had nabbed me, meaning that they would be searching for me since I hadn't checked in.

"What are you doing?" The vampire asked, the hand shaking a little bit. My phone was on, location services on. Cas would've called me, then Mick and Ketch most likely. Once I was confirmed missing, they would've used my phone to try and track me.

"Two." All they would need was proof that I was with the phone, and that it wasn't in a dumpster somewhere. Me talking, me telling them I was in a windowless room with one door in front of me, would have to be enough extra information.

"Stop it!" The vampire shouted. He looked afraid now. I was too calm, too sure. I wasn't cocky anymore. They knew where I was. They knew what was up. They knew exactly what weapons he had, even. They'd given me twenty minutes to get as much information as possible.

All I'd needed to know was that my phone was on, that they got the messages.

And they had.

"One." The door was kicked in in front of me, followed by a small canister rolling in.

"What the fuck is that?!" The vampire screamed. I just smirked.

"Zero." I clamped my eyes shut, fighting the pain as I threw myself backwards in my chair. The vampire bomb, the same kind I helped make, went off with a blinding flash. I could feel the heat from where I was, followed by a shriek and a gunshot. Once it was done, there was silence.

"Kylie?!" My name, from Castiel's voice, making sure I was alive.

"Is it clear?!" A different voice. T.J. was there?!

"Yeah, it's clear!" I shouted, doing my best to keep the breathiness and injury from my voice. I couldn't quite keep how tightly my teeth were gritted out of my tone, though. Two sets of footsteps came rushing in, one directly to me and the other to the vampire.

"Kylie," Castiel again, right above me. I opened my eyes, smiling up at him.

"Hey, babe." I said, smiling. "How's your day been?"

"You're hurt." He stated, moving to lift my chair back up to a sitting position. I shook my head quickly, catching his eye.

"Witchbag, under the seat." I said. "Get rid of that first." He did as I asked, throwing it clear out the door. I was able to relax a little bit, then. "The bullets embedded in me are the same way." I spat over to the side, and saw more blood than actual spit. Castiel noticed, I knew he noticed, but he and T.J. began work together to get the rest of the bullets out of me. "T.J., you son of a bitch," I commented once I finally saw him. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

"You didn't check in." He answered. "Ketch wanted to make sure you were still alive."

"And how did you find Cas?" T.J. handed Cas a pair of tweezers to help him get the bullets out of me.

"I found him." Castiel responded, digging out one of the bullets. I gritted my teeth, keeping myself occupied.

"How?"

"He was the only British man looking for you." He answered. "And he appeared rather quickly after you disappeared. It was not difficult to ascertain that we would be working towards the same goals."

"He pinned me against a wall until I told him I was with you." T.J. clarified, pulling out a bullet himself. I grimaced, arching a little from the pain. Another bullet out. "It was extremely terrifying, in all honesty."

"I did apologize." Castiel pointed out.

"No, you said that you should apologize," T.J. corrected. "And then I got her location finalized and the time frame for information. Afterwards, you told me that if she died within those twenty minutes that it would be my head alongside the vampires, if I do remember correctly."

"When you know where she is and you wait because she gave you some sort of hidden signal to do so, one that I still do not fully understand by the way," Castiel argued. "Then I tend to have a small problem with that." More bullets out. I'd lost count of how many (let me rephrase I was purposefully avoiding counting them so that I didn't focus on the pain of having fucking bullets pulled out of my freaking body), but I knew that there couldn't be many left. I was already starting to feel better.

"Can we agree," I gritted my teeth as one more came out. That was enough. I could do the rest myself, easily. I sat up, focusing heavily on the two bullets that were left as I closed my eyes. They popped out with a bit of difficulty, but still were gone nonetheless. "That at least we're all mostly fine, and that there's a larger problem here?" All there was left was the angel blade injuries. I showed Castiel where they were, and he passed a hand over them. There would still be scars, undoubtedly, but it was better than nothing.

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked instead. I nodded, squeezing his hand for a moment. "Then I think I can agree to those terms."

"Oh, you'll agree with her?!" T.J. exclaimed, pointing at me. "But not with her best friend?"

"Who told you that we were besties?" I asked in response, raising an eyebrow at him as they both helped me stand.

"Low blow, Dillinger." He claimed, shaking his head. "Low blow."

"What's the larger problem?"

"We're being hunted, now." I said. "The entirety of Supernatural beings… This isn't good." I looked over at T.J. "And who the hell is the Shifter, Louis? There weren't any people by that name on Project V." I'd known everyone on that project. I'd made it a point to know everyone, and after the raid… I made it a point to respect who'd given their lives for the Project. Nobody had been named Louis. And nobody had been a Shifter.

"I don't know." T.J. said. "But Kylie, if there's a price out on your head… Maybe America isn't the safest place for you anymore."

"What, you think I should run?!" I shook my head. "Hell no! That'll just encourage them!"

"She's not leaving without me." Castiel added, standing firm. I turned and looked at him.

"I'm not leaving, period." I stated. "If I run then they'll think this is OK, that we can be bullied or intimidated in to leaving."

"You can't have vampires and witches and who knows what else hunting you like that." T.J. argued. "They got the jump on you."

"One vampire." I said. "Armed with witchbags and my stolen knives, by the way."

"And how did he get the witchbags?" Castiel asked. I pursed my lips slightly.

"From another witch." I muttered. T.J. raised an eyebrow at me, almost in an "I told you so" look. "Hey, hey, look, sometimes shit happens. Sometimes a vampire gets some good work from a witch. I'm still not leaving, though. No way in hell am I letting them run me out of my own damn country." I stared them both down evenly. "Look, I've got a few spells I can run, a few things I can do to hide myself better. I haven't worn the Diana look in a long time, and as far as I can tell the Supernatural community hasn't connected it to me just yet, or any other fake identities I can create." I thought for a moment. "Yeah, I can check with Crowley and Rowena. They've got better eyes and ears in the underground than I do. They can tell me which of my identities are connected to me and help legitimize me a new one if needed. I don't have to run. I can just go back to hiding." I looked myself over before snapping my fingers. In an instant, I was back in my old disguise. I looked at the two, holding my hands up for a moment. "See? Completely unrecognizable."

T.J. shook his head. "I still don't like this." He said. "It'd be safer for you to be back in London. Less variables. Less monsters. Less to worry about."

"And I still don't like the idea of running. I'm staying here." I was putting my foot down on this. "I'll just have to be more careful."

"Castiel, back me up on this one thing, at least!" T.J. tried, turning to the angel. He didn't say a word, just looked over at me.

"It's your decision." He stated, his voice slightly pained. I knew he didn't like either option. I was just back with him, and T.J. was right, it would be safer for me to leave. But at the same time neither of us wanted me to go. I sure as hell wasn't going without a fight.

"Come on!" T.J. shouted, throwing his hands in the air. I smiled, dropping the disguise as I gave Castiel a hug. "You know what, if you die it's your own bloody fault!" He decided.

"Don't care." I replied. "I'm not leaving."


	32. Hunting Down Leads

Things with Cas were great. We put my bike up in the bed of his truck, and drove out to different leads. I didn't wear the disguise when I was in the car with him, but anytime else I had to wear a new disguise; apparently word had gotten around about Diana Nyx. The new identity for the time being was Erin Willis. Crowley already had some sort of paperwork or cataloging or whatever he did to keep track of which demons were in which people. Erin Willis, young female college athlete. Low-level crossroads work. He even went the extra mile to starting a rumor that I'd died from an angel blade to the heart, to help dissuade any other angry witches or vampires or whatever from looking for me.

I hated wearing these types of disguises, but they worked. Change of clothes along with a heads-up to Mick and Ketch about the new change (as well as the faked death), and I was all good. Blonde hair, typical sporty attire, and eyes that still weren't mine (no matter how many times I put on this kind of disguise, the eyes never looked like ones I could be looking out of.

"I don't like your disguise." Castiel admitted while we were at another random gas station.

"What, too preppy?" I asked. "I know, I know, but look. It's a part of the thing. I'm supposed to be a demon that makes deals for sports contracts or better grades, I've got to look the part."

"No, it's not that." He said. "I'm… I'm happy that you're here with me, I don't want you to misunderstand me on that. However…" he shook his head, finishing up at the pump. "I miss you. I liked seeing you and miss seeing that."

"Cas, the second the car gets rolling I drop this and It's plain me again." I reminded him. "Albeit in clothes that I really don't think are my style, but it's still me. Same dyed hair that's starting to fade now, same shitty singing voice trying to imitate Zeppelin, same me that's me now."

"I wish you could be you no matter what." He admitted. "I wish that you didn't have to disguise yourself and that it was safe for you to not."

"It will be again." I promised him. "The heat on me will die down and I can be me again. We just have to wait this one out."

He didn't like it, but he agreed to it and kept going with it.

I got a call from Dean approximately two weeks after I'd joined up with Castiel. We were in a diner in… Idaho. Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. We were doing recon on the place (also known as eating) before talking with the manager about a possible lead on Kelly (something about aliens or lizard people or something very weird, but at the same time that had gotten a hit on a few really shitty tabloids, the local newspaper, and the Men of Letters facial recognition software). I answered Dean's call almost immediately. He hadn't called me in, well… Since I'd gotten back. "Hey, is everything alright?" I asked. I knew he wouldn't call me if it wasn't important. Castiel looked over at me from across the table.

"Who is it?" He asked. I mouthed Dean's name, and he nodded in understanding.

"Not exactly." The elder hunter said.

"What's wrong?" Cas sat up a little straighter at the mention of a problem. "Is it Sam? Rowena? Crowley? Your mom?"

"None of them." He sighed. I waved Cas down, letting him know it was alright. "It's a… It's a hellhound, and a bitchy one too." I heard arguing, followed by the phone being moved.

"Hey Kylie, it's your favorite demon." Crowley, his voice as sarcastic as ever, but with a bit of a smile to it.

"Crowley you son of a bitch!" I crowed. Castiel raised an eyebrow at that. "What the hell is going on there?"

"A rogue hellhound, guards were stupid and let her lose."

"I didn't think hellhounds could go rogue."

"This one can. Ramsey." I sat, thinking. Ramsey. Ramsey. I'd heard that name before. Our waitress came around, notepad ready to take orders. I motioned for Castiel to go first.

"I'll have a glass of water and a…" He examined the menu a little closer for a minute. "Trashcan omelet?" The waitress nodded, looking over at me.

"Make it two." I said, moving the phone from my mouth a little to speak to her. She smiled and took up the menus as I returned to my conversation, waiting until she was a good distance away before throwing up the normal sound-silencer around us and speaking. "Mind enlightening me a little since I don't exactly know everything about hellhounds?"

"What about a hellhound?" Castiel asked.

"The mother of all hellhounds." Crowley explained. "The true bitch that sires sons and daughters of its own bitchiness."

"Lovely." I commented, looking over at Cas. "Big momma bitch hound." I explained to him. "So, what, you think I'll be your dogcatcher?" I asked Crowley. More rustling, and Dean had the phone again.

"Look, you can see them, and you used to have one." I fought back a flinch at that. Castiel could see something shift, though. He reached across the table to grasp my hand lightly.

"Yeah, you're right. I did," my voice was tense as I spoke. "Until she was killed by Ramiel trying to help protect all of us."

"I know, and I'm sorry." That caught me by surprise. Dean Winchester, apologizing for the death of a hellhound? That was a new one. "But you're as much of an expert as Crowley is, and in this case we want all the help we can get."

"Why? What's so special about Ramsey?"

"Wait, this is Ramsey?" Castiel asked, gripping my hand tighter. "She's loose?" There was another rustle on the line, and Crowley had the phone again.

"She's not bound by rules." He explained. "No 10 year contract killings. No nothing."

"Like Karma?"

"She was different." Crowley said. "Karma bonded with you, not a demon. And Ramsey bonded with an angel. Specifically, Lucifer."

"So this is Lucifer's dog we're dealing with?" I couldn't help but feel the irony in my situation. I was dealing with Lucifer's dog, Lucifer's baby… Hell, did he have a fucking house? A mortgage? A car? Some sort of evil psycho freaky-deaky favorite food?

"I heard a 'we' just then." Crowley stated. I felt a small smirk find its way to my face, followed by Castiel shaking his head.

"This is a bad idea." He said. "Ramsey is the most feral and vicious hellhound to ever live. She is the original hellhound, the very first one."

"An alpha?" I asked. Crowley and Castiel answered at the same time.

"Yes."

"I literally just killed a different Alpha this month." I pointed out, waving my free hand in the air for a moment. "And now you're asking me to hunt a second?"

"No." Castiel stated.

"Yes." Crowley replied. A small huff of air left me as I sat there. "Is that feathers with you?"

"Yes." I told him.

"Let me talk to him." I looked at the phone in shock before handing it to Cas.

"Crowley wants to speak with you." I said. His face flattened out in to one of… What's the word for loathing with more disdain and a bit of dread all mixed in?

"Yes?" Castiel asked, his voice just as flat as his face. I couldn't quite hear the conversation well, but from Cas' expressions he definitely wasn't happy. "No. No, absolutely not." A small pause. "Crowley, you know the situation right now." Another pause. "Yes, I'm aware as well… Because I want her safe as well." More of a pause. "Dean, tell him it's a bad idea." Dean was on the line? "You don't. Do you know what's going on?" Small pause. "She is being hunted."

"Hey, it's not as bad as you think!" I argued. Cas kept talking.

"Everything." Castiel said. "Yes, Dean. Everything." A longer pause. I could just barely hear arguing on the phone, more than likely between Crowley and Dean. Finally, Cas spoke again. "It was either leave or stay, but hidden. She chose the latter." Cas listened for a while, then handed the phone back to me.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Dean started off with.

"Tell you what?"

"That every fanged, clawed, freaked-out thing is gunning for your head!" He shouted.

"There's no way it can be every single one." I stated, trying to keep my tone light. "There's got to be at least two that don't care or that maybe even like me."

"You know what I mean!" Dean argued. "Why didn't you tell us that you were being hunted?"

"Dean," I said, my voice mellowing out. "When was the last time you spoke to me?" He didn't answer off the bat, so I continued. "Yeah. And that conversation didn't quite go too well, did it?" More silence. "You said you wanted time, I gave you time. It's been a few months. I saw Sam and talked with him sooner than I did you. So…" I took a bit of a breath. "You can't say I didn't have good reason to not reach out. Not this time. This time… I didn't want to bug you or bother you or inconvenience you until you'd taken the time you needed."

I heard Dean take a breath on his end. "I'm sorry." He finally said. "For not calling sooner and for this being because we need your help. But if you're not safe," he thought for a second. "Cas has had to deal with you being dead twice now, both times with him feeling as though he could've done anything else, or where he just blamed himself. I don't think he could deal with doing it a third time. I think… I think one more might break him."

"I don't plan on dying anytime soon." I promised. "And I'll stay in disguise. But if you guys need help, I'm here to help."

"Cas isn't going to like it." Dean told me. I sighed.

"I know."

"Thank you." Dean said. "I appreciate it. A lot."

"Thanks."

"And I know that Crowley probably misses you."

"That witch? Nagging and complaining and blowing up my curtains?!" Crowley exclaimed from the other end of the line. "I couldn't care less about her!"

"Yeah, yeah, softie." Dean joked. The waitress started walking towards us with food, and I shut down the sound barrier.

"Send me the details and I'll be there as soon as possible." I promised, keeping my voice business-like in case of any unwanted listeners.

"Sounds good. See you soon." Dean said. I hung up, put my phone away in my pocket quickly, and smiled as the waitress set our omelets in front of us. "Thank you." I told her. Castiel did the same, and we took a moment to eat and not speak about the decision I'd just made. I knew he wasn't exactly the biggest fan of this. My situation wasn't the safest at the moment, I was fully aware. But at the same time, this was what we did. We helped people. We were trying to help Kelly. We just needed to find her first.

"I had an idea." Castiel said. I put back up the barrier so he could speak freely. "You are going to help Dean and Sam and Crowley, correct?"

"Yeah." I said, nodding. "I'm sorry. I know you're worried about me getting hurt or something again but, it's what we do and this is the first time since I saw him that Dean has even talked to me and," I was cut off before I could continue.

"I understand." Castiel said. I sat there, stunned, my fork hanging in the air maybe halfway from my mouth.

"You do?"

"Yes." He said. "And even though I am concerned for your well-being in going to their aide, at the same time I believe I would be more concerned if you didn't go." I let out a breath I hadn't been holding, setting my fork down.

"Thank you." I would've hugged him if he wasn't in the other side of the booth. "So what was your idea?" I resumed eating after asking, extremely curious at this point.

"When do you think you will be back from helping them?"

"No idea." I admitted. "But there will be four of us, and if they already know what their big baddie monster of the week is then all they probably need from me is tracking and trapping assistance, especially since it's a hellhound." I shrugged. "At max, maybe three days."

"Well, while you assist them I can easily interview the owner myself," Castiel offered. "And once you return, I was thinking we could…" He gulped. Audibly. "Go out?"

"Like a date?"

"Yes." He smiled a little bit with it. "Like a date."

"Cas, I…" I couldn't help but smile as well. "I've got nothing to wear, first off. Second off," I motioned to myself. "I'm going to have to look like this."

"What if we had a picnic?" Castiel asked. "Away from any people or cameras?"

"Where?" I was game for this now. My phone buzzed, probably with details for where to go, but I ignored it.

"The lake." He said. "I saw it was heavily wooded. Easy enough to find somewhere for two people to be alone, I would believe."

"You realize how creepy this would sound if we were normal people, right?" I asked. "Like, the stereotypical horror movie setup." Castiel offered me a confused look, and I laughed. "What? Nighttime lakeside date, completely alone," I wiggled my fingers at him a bit. "Perfect place to murder a helpless young woman like myself." Castiel ran his hand through his hair for a moment, seemingly exasperated. I reached across and grasped his other hand lightly, squeezing it. "I think it's a wonderful idea, Cas. Very sweet. Very romantic. Very… perfect." He looked up at me, and I could see how happy he looked.

"Thank you." He said.

"It's no worries!" I returned to eating my food, thinking for a moment. "Anything you want me to grab before I come back?"

"Just let me know when you will return." He requested. "Don't worry about the rest."

"Ok." I agreed. "But you'll call me, right? If something big comes up with Kelly?"

"Of course." He promised. "As long as you promise me that you will be safe."

"I'm me." I reminded him. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Fine. I'll do everything in my admittedly large arsenal of power, to keep myself safe." He kept that eyebrow up as high as he could. "And Crowley and Sam and Dean will be there, so I won't wander off without them, ensuring that I have maximum protection from anything and anyone that may be looking for me."

"Thank you." He said, finally lowering the eyebrow to continue eating. We ate the rest of our meal in silence, just enjoying each other's company for the time being. Once I was done eating, though, it was time for me to go.

"I'll see you in a few days." I promised, squeezing his hand one more time.

"Call me if something happens."

"Only if you do the same." I said, smirking a little bit. I reached in to my pocket, pulling out a twenty. "Food's on me." I tossed it on the table, made sure my phone was in my pocket, and walked outside to the car. Castiel unlocked it from inside the diner, and I was able to grab what I needed. A few items from the back specifically for spells involving hellhounds (holy oil, goofer gust, the normal things), a couple spare changes of clothes, and my backpack to hold it all in. My blades were in their normal sheathes, happy and content. There was just one thing left that I was going to want…

"Where did I put you guys?" I muttered, rooting around the car. I needed some glasses. I kept a fake pair around if I wanted to pass as serious FBI or something, but I hadn't hit them with the holy oil treatment. Not saying that Dean and Sam wouldn't have any, but I liked bringing a spare pair. I checked the glove box and found them. "Boo-yah." I muttered, shoving them in the backpack as well. I could make them Hellhound Specs when I got there.

I looked back at the restaurant to see Castiel looking out the window at me. I closed the door and gave him a thumbs up. He locked it, gave me a much more awkward thumbs up, and waved good-bye. I waved back before checking my phone. Two texts. One from Dean, with specifics as to where I was going. Sheridan County, Nebraska. I'd been there before. Decent places to hole up, really bad takeout service if they think you're homeless. The other text was from Crowley. Just lock on to me.

"I can do that." I muttered, shutting my phone. I stuffed it in my pocket before I disappeared. I showed up right in the middle of Sam and Dean explaining about how to see hellhounds.

"Or you wear a pair of these," Sam said, holding up glasses that had already gotten the holy oil treatment. "They're glasses, treated with holy fire."

"Or you're me." I said, startling everybody except Crowley. "Hi. Kylie. Witch. And…" I took a look at myself. I still looked like Erin. "Shit, hold on." I brushed off my arms for dramatic effect, and took a moment to register the random new girl's surprise at me changing to look like a different person. "Sorry about that. This feels better. Anyways, what was I saying?" I smiled, looking around at everyone.

"Glad to see you still have your sense of humor." Crowley muttered.

"Wait, you can actually see hellhounds?" Dean asked. I nodded.

"Elective eye surgery." I said. "Really, really happy I didn't go blind because of it. And no, I don't recommend it for either of you." I added the last part quickly, seeing Dean and Sam's eyes light up. "Good to see you guys, by the way."

"You just…" The girl started stuttering, pointing at me a little too. "You just… Appeared. Out of nowhere."

"Yeah. I do that sometimes." I admitted. "They tell you I was coming?"

"They said they had an expert coming in." Crowley looked hurt at that.

"Am I not good enough of an expert for you two?" He asked, appalled. I rolled my eyes, walking past him to the girl. She flinched for a second, but held her ground.

"Hi." I repeated, offering her my hand. "I'm Kylie. I'm a witch. I had a hellhound as a pet for the better part of a year. So… Yeah." I shrugged, my hand still extended. She stared at it warily. "I guess I could be considered an expert." Crowley coughed loudly behind me. "And him too," I jerked my other thumb in his direction. "But I'm more fun to be around." I promised. She looked up at my face, then my hand, then my face again. "I promise, this time I'm gonna keep looking like this." I assured her. After a few more minutes, she shook it.

"I'm… I'm Gwen." She said. "Gwen Hernandez."

"Nice to meet you." I moved away from her to give Sam a quick hug before turning to Dean. He'd spoken, which I was taking as a good sign, and he'd been the one to call me. "Hey." I said, offering him a small wave.

"Just freaking hug me, dammit." He muttered, looking away. I broke out in to a huge smile, running over to hug him as well. I caught him hard, and almost knocked him back a few steps. "Whoa, hey kiddo," I could almost hear him smiling. "Hey, I'm glad to see you too."

"And I'm about to lose any and all food that I've eaten in the past 48 hours if you keep up like this." Crowley complained. "Will somebody please fill her in on the plan?" I took a few steps away from Dean, still smiling at him.

"Alright," Dean said. "Crowley and I are gonna hit the woods, see if we can't track down Kujo," he looked over at Gwen. "You stick with Sam, he'll keep you safe."

"You guys want another pair to give to her or you got some?" I asked, slinging my backpack in front of me.

"Sounds like a good idea." Sam agreed. I grabbed the holy oil water bottle and a pair of glasses out. A few seconds later, I had a pair of Hellhound Specs for Gwen. She hopped in the car, testing them out.

"Where am I going?" I asked once the car door was closed. "And what's the deal with her?"

"Ramsey ate her boyfriend." Crowley summed up. "And she hit Ramsey with an ax." I glanced over at the girl.

"I like her." I decided, turning back to the boys.

"You're going with Sam, for now." Dean said. "Ramsey is targeting her specifically. I want you there for added protection."

"And if you two find her first?" I asked, motioning from him to Crowley.

"Then you switch off." Sam said. "Go from us to them and finish her off."

"Is this a retrieval type of mission or is this a dead or alive type of thing?"

"Dead or alive." Sam said. I glanced over at Crowley, and he nodded in conformation.

"Ok. Sounds good." I nodded.

"I need to speak with you for a moment." Crowley added. This time I turned to the boys, making sure they were OK with this.

"Yeah, no worries." Dean said. "I gotta talk with Sam anyways." Crowley and I wandered off a little ways after that, and I waited until he gave me the all-clear before I put up the barrier.

"What's up?" I asked.

"There's something wrong." Crowley stated.

"What do you mean?"

"Your Diana disguise," he explained. "It shouldn't have been found out like it was."

"How was it found out?" I was curious on that. He hadn't explained it last time we'd talked.

"I don't know." Crowley answered. "Rumors got spread, but the source of them or how the connection was made is never explained."

"Maybe I just wasn't careful enough." I said. "Maybe a vampire got away and got a peek at some files or any information on me."

"Maybe." He didn't sound so assured though. "I don't like it, though."

"I'll ask around and see if Ketch or Mick know anything about it." I offered. "Can I ask a favor, by the way?"

"What is it?"

"I need you to find someone for me." I said. "A shapeshifter."

"You're asking a demon to find a shapeshifter." He laughed a little. "Can't you do it with one of your spells?"

"All I have is a name." I said. "Nothing else. I can't find them easily with just a name."

"Then why not have your British friends do it for you?"

"They're already looking," I admitted. "But I had a feeling you would be faster." Crowley thought for a moment.

"What's the name?"

"Louis."

"Just Louis?" He asked. "No last name?" I shook my head.

"The vampire didn't say it." Crowley mulled it over.

"I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise it will be a lot." He said.

"He's considered a traitor." I added. "He's got a price on his head like I do." Crowley seemed to have an idea at that. "What? What is it?"

"More rumors." Was all he answered with. "I can chase them down."

"Do those rumors come with a last name?" I asked. "It could give me a better chance at doing searches on my end."

"Abernathy." He replied, after maybe a few seconds hesitation. "I heard one rumor with the last name Abernathy in it."

"Thank you. I owe you one." I promised, looking around. "Come on, the others will wonder where we went."

"One more thing," Crowley added. I waited for him to speak. "Those rumors about Louis," he took a small breath. "I started hearing them along the same time that rumors about Diana and you being the same person were starting to get around." I felt something settle uneasily in my stomach.

"I don't like this." I admitted.

"I don't either." He agreed. We stood there in an uneasy silence for a moment, neither of us certain what it all meant, but neither of us feeling like it was a good thing either.

"We should get back." I said.

"Yes, we should." He muttered. I took down the barrier and we both headed back, neither of us in the particularly best of moods. Something was going on underground, and I didn't like it.

Neither did Crowley.


	33. The Angels Have A Proposition

Castiel walked out of the diner with a lot of information, figuring out exactly how to tell Kylie about it and what to do next. If he was right, then those yellow eyes he saw in the video feed… It was another Prince of Hell.

 _"My sister, Dagon, she's taken an interest."_ Ramiel's words echoed in Castiel's head for a moment. She wasn't the only Prince of Hell there was, but in that case, she was the most likely one to have been there. If she was watching Kelly…

If Kylie's efforts to try and track Kelly had been difficult before, they would be near impossible now.

Castiel looked up, and saw someone leaning against his truck. Angel. He lowered his blade immediately. "Nice day out!" The angel shouted, sounding quite friendly. Castiel stared at him for a moment until he recognized who was within the vessel. "Hello brother."

"Kelvin." Castiel said, automatically preparing to defend.

"Oh you remember!" Kelvin exclaimed. "We only met the once, so…" His voice trailed off, and Castiel took the opportunity to speak.

"What are you doing here?"

"Same reason as you and that demon you got loaned. To track down Kelly Kline and that unholy bun she's got in her oven." He answered, looking around. "Speaking of the demon, though, where'd she go?"

"She was called back by Crowley." Castiel lied, this time much better and much easier than he had in the past.

"It's a shame. I missed Kylie." The way he said it made his blood boil. Kelvin had been one of the angels that ridiculed her and wanted her dead.

"She's busy." He stated, calm and clear.

"Well, if the wife's away," Kelvin shrugged. "Why don't we help each other out?"

"What do you mean?" Castiel asked.

"There's a great bar a few blocks away." Kelvin offered. "Let's go sit and talk, out of the open areas and the like. I'll buy." Castiel felt skeptical about it, but accepted anyways. More information would be useful. Kylie wouldn't like it...

Or would she? She was working with people that hadn't necessarily acted with perfect morals either. The ends justified the means more often than not; however, those people did seem invested in her well-being. The response time to her being missing was quite fast, and her friend T.J. had been extremely worried for her safety.

Would meeting with Kelvin, discussing and sharing some information, really be as bad or different from what she was doing? We were both looking for what had killed other angels, how bad could it be to at least converse?

Sometimes, in the name of doing good and helping others, you had to work with people you didn't necessarily enjoy being around. Dean and Sam did it with Crowley. Kylie had even worked with Crowley. He could talk with Kelvin.

"Weather's nice, isn't it?" Kelvin commented. "Not as nice as Heavens is, of course, but for Earth," he looked around a little as they walked, nodding. "It's a nice day, don't you agree?"

"Yes." He nodded with Kelvin. Castiel couldn't help but agree, it was a nice day. He couldn't help but wish that Kylie was there to enjoy it with him. Kelvin didn't try to initiate any more conversation on the way, just looked around. Castiel took a moment to observe Kelvin and his actions. He looked… A mix of bored and amazed with what was around him; the same look that the majority of his brothers had had when they looked at humanity. Amazed at what the humans had accomplished, but in a condescending and bored way that showed they were only impressed due to the believed small-mindedness that crippled humanity. But he still took the time to look around.

Kelvin wasn't used to being around on Earth, that much was obvious. If he had been on Earth for a long time, he would either look at his surroundings much differently or not at all. If he had been around humans more frequently, he would be more appreciative and aware of exactly what these people had accomplished.

He talked more like the humans normally did, though. He observed, probably a lot on interactions and social commentary versus general activity and movements like Castiel had done.

Castiel pondered on these differences as they approached the bar, as well as the question of how Kelvin knew about said bar and whether or not it was good. Was it a memory from his vessel? Had he actually been in?

Different angels had their pleasures and things they sometimes enjoyed about humanity, almost like how Ramiel had enjoyed fishing.

These days, he wasn't entirely certain how demons and angels differed. Not anymore.

They walked in quietly, and took seats at the bar. Castiel ordered water, whereas Kelvin ordered a beer. Castiel clasped his hands together, almost in prayer. He wasn't praying, though. He was just… Thinking. Trying to understand why an angel that hadn't spent a lot of time on Earth (but at the same time definitely knew some things) – an angel that was definitely a part of Heaven, a place he had been… well… pretty much excommunicated from – wanted to meet with him.

"So, how are things in Heaven?" Castiel finally asked, letting out a small sigh.

"Functional." Kelvin answered. He sounded… More honest that Castiel would expect. More blunt. "You know, there's the usual infighting, people taking sides on different hot-topic issues," Castiel didn't have to ask to know he was speaking about his status as a Cordziz Hoath. "But… Let's just say Lucifer having a baby on board has brought us all together." Castiel was surprised about that. He knew Heaven could band together, he'd seen it with Amara, but hearing about it from another angel and that it could still happen… It made him feel hopeful and saddened, because they couldn't band together for themselves, but they could when Lucifer's child was involved.

"You know, this is an all hands on deck situation, Castiel." Kelvin added, leaning in. He tapped his fist on the bar in front of them once. "Including yours."

"OK," Castiel could feel a bit of sarcasm in his own voice. "So you're here for my hands?" He knew Kylie would be proud of the comment.

"We want you." Kelvin explained. Castiel rolled his eyes, and returned his gaze to his drink. "Look, you got more field experience than the next thousand angels combined." He laid one hand over the other, and rested them both on the bar.

"I think you overestimate me." Castiel replied, not looking at the angel. He had been around Kylie enough to recognize that style of speaking, when a person was trying to be complimentary for coercion.

"I don't." Kelvin argued. Castiel just shook his head. "Look, I know you're working with the Winchesters and Kylie, wherever she's gone and hidden," Castiel raised an eyebrow at Kelvin's words, but nothing else. At least if the angels were trying to kill her, they didn't know where she'd gone. "And their hearts are all in the right place, but wouldn't it be better to have us waiting in the proverbial wings?" He smiled at his own pun, leaning back a little bit. "All the power of Heaven behind you?" Castiel glanced over at him, and for a second he could see it. He could see the possibilities with it. Sam, Dean, Kylie, and all the powers of Heaven searching for this woman and her unborn child.

The possibilities there… They would be endless.

Then Castiel remembered another time when all the powers of Heaven were supposedly in line with the Winchesters towards one goal. And that time… It almost ended in the apocalypse.

Castiel shook his head again, looking away. So Kelvin tried a new tactic.

"You ever miss it?" He asked. "Upstairs?" Castiel froze then. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I like Earth. It's quirky. It smells like hay. But it's not home, is it?"

That was the one thing he didn't like admitting to himself; that he did miss Heaven. He hadn't been in there, wanted and accepted and allowed without getting looks over everyone's shoulders and feelings of uncertainty and sometimes hatred from his own brothers. He missed home, and a home where he was not judged as harshly for his choices.

"I don't believe I'm welcome in Heaven." Castiel reminded the angel, as well as himself. It didn't matter how much he wished being in Heaven. Earth was his home now. He had Kylie.

"No, you're not." Kelvin agreed. "They still hold a lot of grudges up there. But what if I told you that you could come back?" Castiel froze a second time then, and Kelvin kept talking. "That all your sins could be forgotten? Forgiven? That you could be with your human woman without our brothers and sisters judgement?"

"I would say that you're lying." Castiel replied, looking Kelvin in the eyes. If there was one thing that he understood about angels, it was their stubbornness.

"Oh, but I'm not." Kelvin replied. "You help us track down Kelly Kline, and you will be welcomed back in to the fold." Castiel narrowed his eyes.

"Right." Once more, Castiel was certain that Kylie would admire his sarcasm. "And you have the power to do that."

"Oh no, I can't." Kelvin admitted. "I'm just the messenger. But Joshua can." Castiel took a moment to let this sink in. Joshua had been the only angel to speak with God during the apocalypse, and was the wisest one among them. He was the only angel left that every other one respected, no matter their personal beliefs.

He was also the only angel that had chosen to stay neutral, consistently, no matter the situation.

"Joshua." Castiel repeated. "I thought he stepped aside." He had been offered leadership on multiple occasions, from all the angels, and each time had turned it down.

"He did." Kelvin replied. "But like I said, all hands on deck situation." Castiel couldn't believe it. Joshua was becoming involved.

Heaven really had rallied around a central issue.

"Imagine it, Castiel," Kelvin continued. "Free to come and go as you please. Part of your family, your true family, again."

No matter how much Castiel denied it, told himself that Sam and Dean and Kylie were the only family he needed, he still missed those he'd spent millennia with; He still missed the angels.

"Look," Kelvin finally said. "The Gardener's got a plan. All we ask is that you hear us, hear him," he emphasized again, using everything except Joshua's name this time. "Out. For the greater good."

Castiel leaned back, thinking on this. The angels refused to speak with him nowadays, had banned him from Heaven and from speaking with others. First it was Lucifer, then with the rest of his old unit dead… He was an outcast. He was unwanted. If he dared enter Heaven again… He would be slaughtered on sight.

If he could go back… No worries about being killed for entering his home. No worries about any angels coming after him or Kylie in retaliation. Acceptance, actual acceptance was being offered.

His reverie was broken by his phone buzzing. Kylie, saying that she'd be back early the next morning.

Kelvin threw down some money, and handed him a piece of paper. "Think about it." He offered, standing up. "Meet us at the entrance in, say, a few days?" He offered. "If you don't show, we understand, but we could really use your help." He stood up, and was about to walk away before remembering something. "Oh, and Joshua will be there. If you come on board, he wants to talk with you in person."

Castiel watched Kelvin walk out, and took a look at the piece of paper he had been given. It named a specific date and time, as well as a reminder for where the meeting would take place. He stuffed it in the pocket of his overcoat, uncertain as to what he would do with it.


	34. What If It Was Me?

"Cas, don't." I begged. He had just told me this… this insane plan. Teaming up with the angels? When had that ever worked before? "It's a bad idea."

"I think it would be wise to seek out all the help we can get." He argued. "You have the Men of Letters doing everything they can with what they have, and the angels have other abilities that may be useful as well in finding Dagon."

"The angels are a bunch of fucking self-entitled douchebags with daddy issues and hatred for anything that isn't exactly like them." I replied. "They're the equivalent of high-school clique bitches that also just so happen to be related to the principal."

"I don't understand what any of that means," Cas started with. "But they're changing. They're working together for once."

"Yeah, because it's a Nephilim being born." I responded. "If it was just Lucifer, they wouldn't be doing shit. If it was you or me in danger, they wouldn't be doing shit. If it was our kid, they'd be trying to kill me and then once the deed was done, they'd be back to the same shitty infighting and the same shitty asshole-ery they're always up to."

"What makes you think we would spawn a Nephilim?" Castiel asked suddenly.

"What?" I asked, shaking my head. "What, no Cas, that's not the point." He ran with it anyways.

"Did you think of… us… bearing a child?" He asked.

"Cas, that's not the point here." I repeated.

"But did you?" He asked. "You are as fully aware as the rest of us how powerful Lucifer is, and subsequently how powerful his child could be, yet when you first met Kelly…" He furrowed his brows for a moment. "You were adamant that she be allowed to keep the Nephilim if she wanted. But now you are helping to find her and the thing inside of her." He looked me square in the eyes. "Why?"

"You mean besides the fact that this woman is trying to figure it all out on her own?" I asked. "That she is carrying Lucifer's child, something she was not aware would be happening until we all showed up, and has to accept that fact and learn how to deal with it on her own? Did you think that maybe, just maybe, I wanted to find her so that she could have a choice again? To have people there for her, no matter what choice was made?! TO HAVE SOME FUCKING SUPPORT?!" I took a few breaths, determined to get myself back under control. Behind me, however, a cyclone the size of my fist had been created and subsequently put out. "Cas, this isn't about me. This is about a woman with everything in creation looking for her to kill her, and you want to team up with the guys that would do it without a second thought?"

"If this child is born, it would mean the end for all of us." Castiel replied. "It would mean certain death and destruction, especially for Kelly."

"Why especially for Kelly? It's her kid?"

"It will kill her, if it's born." He responded. "The power it possesses will absolutely kill her." I stopped then, letting that fact sink in.

"She deserves a right to know, then." I stated. "She deserves to be informed about everything, and to be able to make a decision with all the available information."

"Then what do you think the Men of Letters will ask you to do, once we've found her?" Castiel tried.

"I think they'll want to offer her safe haven, away from creatures like Dagon and the angels so that she can make her choice in an environment where all her options are actually available." I replied. "They haven't said anything to me about killing her, and I don't think that they will."

"Neither have the angels." Castiel pointed out. I rolled my eyes.

"We both know they're going to want her dead." I argued. "You can't be this blind, Castiel. You have to know that."

"Maybe that would be safest." Castiel stated. I didn't say anything for a few moments, staring at him. He had just suggested that killing an innocent woman was the best course of action.

"If it was me, would you still be saying that?" I asked him, unable to believe he had just suggested killing Kelly.

"It wouldn't be you." He finally said. "Because you wouldn't be in this situation, and we wouldn't spawn a Nephilim."

"What if I imagined having a kid with you?" I went on ahead and continued. "You want to make this about why I want her to have a choice and whether or not I wanted to have a kid with you, fine. The thought crossed my mind every so often, about having a normal life and a family with you." I gritted my teeth, meeting his gaze head-on. "So what if it was me, Castiel? What if it was me, pregnant with a Nephilim? Could you kill me, for safety? Or would it just be to destroy an abomination?"

"That's not the point."

"You were trying to make it the point earlier." I held my ground with this one. "What if it was me, Castiel? What would you chose to do then?" He didn't answer, though. He stood there, holding my gaze for maybe a minute longer before looking away, and didn't say a word.

His silence was answer enough, though. I shook my head, determined to keep my emotions in check. "Unbelievable." I said. "Un-be-freakin-lievable, Cas. I… No." I gritted my teeth. "I'm not going to let you murder her, Castiel. You or any of the angels."

"I know." He stated. "I'm not going to let Lucifer's child be born, though." He took a breath, finally looking at me. "Can't you see that I'm doing this because I want you to be safe?" He asked. "Lucifer's child means the end of everything. There is nothing that could stop that powerful of a Nephilim. If it wanted to kill you, it could without there being anything I or anyone else could do to stop it. If it wanted to destroy the world, there is nothing that could be done." He tried to grasp my shoulders, but I took a step away from him. "I want to keep you safe, to keep the world safe. Is that such a bad goal?"

"You want to keep me safe at the cost of her freedom of choice." I responded. "That's not right, Cas, and you know that."

"No, this Nephilim is not right, and this argument is not right." He replied, looking at me with the most pained expression. "When did we stop being on the same team?" He finally asked, sounding… defeated. "When did we stop being a team?"

I could feel it too, feel that defeat. "I don't know." I answered. "Maybe… Maybe we're just… I don't know. Going through a rough patch?" It felt weak even as I was saying it, though. Something was wrong with us. I still loved the hell out of him, but… Neither of us were the same people we used to be, but that seemed to just be the same thing we kept saying.

"Maybe." He agreed. "I still love you."

"And I love you too." I leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I just… I don't know. I think we're both looking at this from two different perspectives, and we're not taking a moment to look at it from the other's."

"OK." Castiel took a moment to think. "You don't want to kill Kelly because you think something good can still be done, and that that isn't the answer." I nodded, and took a moment to think from his point of view.

"You want to work with the angels because you miss your own people, even though you won't admit it, and you want to help and do good and save people again." Castiel took a moment before nodding.

"So what do we do?" He asked.

"I still don't trust the angels." I said, sighing. "But you also still don't trust the Men of Letters, and yet you're alright with me working with them and having them help us. So, if you trust them, I trust you."

"And I know you don't want to kill Kelly." He agreed. "And I know that if it comes to both of us being there, at the same time, then you will do whatever it takes to save her. But you also don't make decisions solely from your heart anymore, you think more with it and chose what the smartest and most beneficial course of action is. You work with those in mind that you want to save, and do everything you can as quickly and intelligently as you can to accomplish just that. So… I trust you too." He said. "I will work with the angels to prevent killing Kelly, if any other options can be found so that she may remain alive."

"And as for her child…" We both looked at each other. Neither of us really knew what to do about that. On one hand, Lucifer's kid would definitely be powerful and trouble. However, it was still a kid, and had no control over who it's parents were. "Why don't we look in to some different options?" I asked. "And we see which option Kelly choses?" Castiel thought for a moment, and nodded.

"We both will." Castiel agreed, however he sounded hesitant.

"So I guess you're leaving to work with the angels soon?" I asked. He nodded.

"I have to meet them at the playground." He replied. I figured. "Do you want to join me?"

"I doubt the angels will want me." I reminded him, raising an eyebrow. "I may go see what the Men of Letters have dug up on Louis. Crowley had a last name for me, by the way. Abernathy." I shrugged. "Maybe I'll get something from that."

"Hopefully." He agreed. "Are you going to stay in America?"

"Maybe." I shrugged. "Depends on where they send me."

"Will you make me a promise?" He asked. I nodded. "Will you promise that you'll stay safe?"

"You know I can't promise that."

"Then… promise me you won't be dead." He tried. "That you'll make sure I know, somehow, that you're still alive." I nodded, thinking for a moment.

"I've got an idea." I finally said, looking through my pockets. It would be a bit of a complicated spell, but it should work. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course." I pulled out a… a rock. Fuck, that was shitty.

"What do you have in your pockets?" I asked him. He rooted around for a moment, and pulled out… another rock.

Well fuck, if all we have are rocks, then rocks will do. I snagged it from him, and pulled a pocketknife from my boot. I made a quick cut across my palm, ignoring the stinging sensation as I gripped one of the rocks as tightly as possible. Castiel took the knife from me, and followed suit with the other rock.

"Hoc erit signum posuit in sanguine, ut sisterent animam meam." This will put a sign in blood, to present my soul. I could feel the rock in my hand warm up for a moment, and I nodded at Castiel.

"Oi gahalana aala a saanir a canilu adagita odzamran en mononusa." I looked over at Castiel in amazement as he released his own rock. "For an angel, Enochian is the best to use for denotating a token to show life." He explained, handing me his rock. I handed him my own, smiling.

"This is how I'll keep my promise." I told him, looking at our rocks. They were both warm, but not a painful heat. Just enough to remind you it was there. "If you feel it, and it's freezing cold, you'll know I'm… I'm gone." I said. "Same thing for yours I have."

"Thank you." He said, putting the rock in one of his pockets.

"No problem." I looked across at him, uncertain of what to do now. "When do you need to leave?"

"Sooner rather than later, I would imagine." He said. "However… I would like to spend one more night in your company, if that is alright." I smiled, hugging him tightly.

"Of course it is." I replied. I had a lot of paperwork on my end to do, considering how helping Sam and Dean had been me getting involved in a Men of Letters assignment. More would probably need to be done if I decided to transfer back to London until the heat died down on me. But it could definitely, and I mean DEFINITELY, wait until morning. All of this, us separating again for a little bit… Could wait until morning.

"Kylie," Castiel said, gripping my hand tightly. His voice seemed a little more urgent this time. I looked over, concerned for a moment. His face was determined, but kind. "It wouldn't be you, because I would keep you safe above all else. I want to make sure you understand that." He held my gaze firmly. "I love you. And… I wish that was an option for us. I wish I could be human for you, and live a normal human life with you."

"I don't." I replied. "I wouldn't take you any other way."

So we got ready for bed, my head back on his chest like normal. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me just a little tighter than normal.

"I love you." He whispered again. "And after this… I want us to move back in together." He spoke extremely hurried, now. "I want that life we used to be working towards. I'm not asking you to marry me again, but I want to try and reclaim what we are."

"I think…" I nodded. "I think that I can do that." I thought again. "We can't get our old place back though. I'm pretty certain that those guys who got married are still there."

"Then we'll find a new place." Castiel promised. "We'll look for one together, this time." I laughed a little bit.

"You've put a lot of thought in to this, haven't you?" I asked, smiling.

"I just…" He took a breath. "I hate that we're consistently having to be away from each other, now. I feel as though it's become a pattern that some days just… makes no sense to me."

"I know." I agreed. "I hate it too. But I think that we're working towards that ending." I added. "I mean, think about it. What's the big problem of the year? A pregnant woman." I shrugged. "I think we've got a real chance of getting all this stupid, domino-effect shit finished once and for all. We just have to finish with this and from there," I glanced up at him. "We'll figure it out. I have faith that we will."

"Thank you." He said. "I do as well."

We fell asleep like that, more than likely ignoring our uncertainty and fear about the future. For one more night, we were just… Just us. And that was alright.

We could afford one more night.


	35. New Mission

I spent the next few weeks doing what I could to track down Kelly and Dagon. The only problem – it was nearly impossible. Any spells I used or tried fizzled out or, well… blew up in my face (I'd nearly burned my eyebrows off on three separate occasions.). When I went to the books, I got nothing on ways to find them. Apparently each Prince of Hell was different, so I couldn't just use anything from one of them (not that I could get anything off of Ramiel, anyways). That and a Nephilim with no way to get any leftover essence from it's parent…

Then again, Crowley had had that one vial I'd used. There could be a chance that he had more. At the very least, it wouldn't kill me to ask.

I sat up in my diner chair, scrubbing my face. I'd also been looking at these plans and equations for the past three days without sleeping. Maybe if I stopped looking at it for a few hours, got some rest… it was 3 in the morning, after all…

My phone buzzed, and I took a look. It was Ketch. I answered immediately. "Hey Ketch, what's going on?"

"We have an assignment for you." He said.

"I'm on assignment now." I reminded him. "Finding the son of the Devil? And his mother? That whole schebang that Mick assigned me to?" I thought for a moment. "Speaking of which, I've gotten his voicemail the last few times I've tried to call him and check in. Is everything OK?"

"Mick has been in and out of multiple meetings in London." Ketch answered.

"Yeah, but still… It's been bugging me. Usually he calls back, at the very minimum." I replied.

"These meetings are extremely vital to multiple different tangents of our operations." Ketch explained. "Including a review of new operatives, like yourself and the Winchesters." I sat up a little straighter at that.

"Why are they doing a review?" I asked. "Is something wrong?"

"It's more like an… efficiency meeting." Ketch explained. "Very intensive, though."

"Alright." I took another look at what I'd been working on. It still was giving me headaches. "Yeah, sure, what's the new assignment? I could use a break."

"You'll be tracking down a rogue hunter." He said. "One that's turned on one of our own. Her name is Eileen Leahy." The name sounded a little familiar, but not that much.

"What happened?"

"She went absolutely berserk." Ketch replied. "And gunned down one of our own on an assignment instead of eliminating the target." I could feel my blood turn cold. I still remembered what happened with Project V.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"Dublin, Ireland." He answered. "Considered armed and very dangerous."

"I can be in London or Scotland in a heartbeat." I offered. "And pick up a flight to Dublin from there."

"There's one other thing I need you to accomplish first."

"Which is?"

"Put me in touch with the demon Crowley." I leaned forwards, resting an arm on the table in front of me.

"Why?" I asked.

"I liked your tactic of having a hellhound to assist," he answered. "And wanted to inquire about repeating the process with other operatives."

"Are you sure? I thought that the higher ups were… less than pleased with Karma being there, to put it lightly." I definitely remembered Lady Bevell throwing at least three different bitch fits about me having a hellhound and making it safe for her to walk around in London.

"They've agreed to give it a trial run, a by-product from one of Micks efficiency meetings." Ketch explained. "Your having a hellhound did come in to conversation at one point, and from a review of how it assisted you in your assignments, along with glowing reviews from myself and Mick, the Old Men have agreed to implement a trial training program." I smiled.

"You're kidding me!"

"Not in the slightest." Ketch answered. "You're doing well. Keep it up and I can see excellent possibilities in your future." I smiled. Things were going good. I was… I was doing good.

"Well, I'll be outside of HQ in 5." I promised. "I just have to get some stuff packed away and get clothes in a bag."

"We've already got clothes packed for you." He replied.

"You were really banking on a yes for this, weren't you?" I asked.

"I did hope." He admitted. "And I know that Thomason has missed your company as well."

"I'm working with T.J. on this?"

"Of course." Ketch stated. "It would be foolish to send you in without a partner."

"Sweet. I'll be in front of HQ in a second then!" I got all my papers put together quickly, glad for the reprieve. "Just let me call Crowley first and set up a meeting. Are you still at the compound?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, I'll set something up nearby." I promised.

"Excellent. Thomason will be waiting for you outside of Headquarters for your briefing." Ketch said, his version of a good-bye that never actually included the words. The line went dead, and I went on ahead and teleported to the cabin before calling Crowley.

"I swear, if you've got a concussion again," he muttered when he picked up.

"Good to hear from you too." I replied, smirking.

"Ah, Kylie. What brings you to chat with me?"

"I need a favor."

"Another one? Besides my looking for whomever has been trying to hunt you down, AND learn the identity of our mystery shifter?" Crowley huffed. "Of course, whatever the princess wishes."

"It's an easy one, I promise." I thought for a moment. I actually had been asking a lot from him. "And I'll owe you a favor in the future, no questions asked."

"Three."

"Two." I amended. "Because if I'm being hunted down, they'll probably start asking who trained me at some point, which is in your best interests to keep quieted as well."

"That bit of inquiry will lead to mother."

"Pretty certain Rowena would give your name up in a heartbeat." I replied. Crowley stayed quiet for a moment.

"Fine. Friends and Family discount. Deal." I smiled.

"Aw, I'm your friend now?" I teased.

"Stuff it." He muttered. "What do you want this time, you bloody freeloader?"

"It's not me, it's one of my colleagues." I explained. "Arthur Ketch."

"I'm aware of who he is." Crowley stated. "What does he want?"

"He wants a hellhound." I said. "They're trying a new training program, and I'm pretty certain Ketch is doing the initial testing phases."

"And Ketch didn't want to ask me himself?"

"All Ketch wanted was for me to set up a meeting between you and him. I'm just letting you know what he'll be asking. You two can work out the terms of the deal yourselves." I put away my papers and notes so that they were somewhat organized among the mass of notebooks and books and stray pieces of paper that had accumulated in the cabin.

At least I knew where everything was. And by knew, I mean I could summon it if I wanted it.

"So you're the middle man."

"This time, yeah."

"And what are you getting out of it?"

"I don't need anything out of it."

"I'm certain I taught you better than that." Crowley argued. "Never be the middle man without taking a piece for yourself."

"Then the piece for myself is credit for inspiring the new training program if it works." I decided. "I don't need anything though. I'm just… Happy that things are working."

"You are insufferably good." I could almost hear the shudder with the word.

"This time, good is finally working and… winning." I pointed out. "I don't have to be afraid or be so ruthless and cold. I can just… be me, and be good."

"Insufferable." Crowley repeated, sighing. "Where am I meeting him?" I rattled off the name of restaurant near Ketch, smiling still. "Fine. Tell him to be there in an hour and a half. And he's buying me dinner."

"Thank you."

"Shut up." He muttered. "And have fun in Europe." He hung up, leaving me to stare at my phone in wonder.

"How the hell did he know?" I asked. Unable to answer my own question, I texted Ketch the information, grabbed some supplies I knew I'd want in Ireland, and, well… Disappeared again, to London.

I met up with T.J. there, and we both went in for our briefing. Location of where the target was, background information (like the deafness), habits, and our goal – watch and gain information however possible. We were supposed to bug her room, her phone, and her computer to see if she was going after anyone else at this point, or if she was working with other rogue Hunters.

"We also believe that she may be a part of the Supernatural hunt for you." Dr. Hess, our briefer, added. I stopped then, my eyes widening.

"What?"

"While searching for the shapeshifter known as Louis Abernathy, we came across Eileen's picture more than once." Hess explained, sliding me some pictures. Images of Eileen doing research on a computer, Eileen taking payment from someone out of the picture, Eileen's computer search history involving places I've been recently and a few pictures of me I didn't even know she'd taken, like she was tracking me… spying on me. I felt personally violated by that.

"When did you find out this information?" I asked, looking at everything. I didn't even know who this girl was!

"Just recently." She said. "When we got the alert on her attack, we didn't quite put together that it was the same person until Thomason took a look at the images side-by-side and was able to confirm it was the same woman." I looked over at T.J., and he shrugged shyly.

"You've been looking in to who's after me?" I asked.

"Can't leave my favorite person out to hang on their own." T.J. admitted, not meeting my eyes. I smiled, nudging him.

"Don't tell me you're getting all shy-smart on me!" I joked with him. He smiled, nudging me back.

"Whatever." He muttered. I laughed, earning a sharp glare from Hess.

"I don't think people attempting to kill one of our own, and succeeding in killing another, are a laughing matter."

"What's the connection to Abernathy, then?" I asked, straightening up. "Anything on them?" I saw T.J. tense at that.

"Unfortunately," Hess said. "No. With him being a shape-shifter, it is difficult to get a definitive ID on them. Same with the lack of any physical items for you to track."

"Freaking shifters." I muttered. Granted, they leave behind their former skins that they shed, but at the same time… How in the hell was I going to find one shifter? How were any of us going to. "Do we even know why he's being hunted? Like, is he good? Can he be used?"

"We have had no definitive proof as to the reasonings or whether or not he is believed to be connected to you or not." Hess answered. "However, in searching through information pertaining to Eileen and the Shifter, we found one more piece of information." She took a deep breath. "America is no longer an option for you to return to."

"WHAT?" I asked, standing up out of my chair.

"Your new alias, Erin Willis, has been burned." She stated. I stared at her, confounded.

"How?"

"We're still not certain." She answered.

"Is there a leak?" I asked. Hess took a moment, looking about the empty briefing room before looking up.

"Activate Procedure 12-18." She ordered, her voice as crisp and clear as could be. "Authorization H1."

"Confirmed." A computerized voice said, startling me for a moment. Every lock in and out of the room clicked, effectively sealing us in. Afterwards, I could… feel the spell, if that makes sense. It was a silencer. Nothing could be heard outside of the room. I could feel it fall in to place around us with the locks. I turned my attention back to Hess.

"What's this?" I asked.

"A precaution." She replied. "Place your hands flat on the table." I glanced over at T.J., and he looked nervous. Quite frankly, I was as well. This was definitely something neither of us had seen before. I turned my gaze back to Hess.

"You first." I stated. "What's it going to do?"

"Just do it." T.J. hissed, the fear evident in his eyes. I glanced at him, and saw him following through.

"Confirmed 10L8859B." The same computerized voice said. I took a breath, following suit. "Confirmed 06K3518D." Hess did as well. "Confirmed 01R0116H."

"What do those numbers mean?" I asked.

"They're identification numbers attached directly to your DNA, in case of an emergency or question of shapeshifters." Hess answered. "To prevent any intruders during the possibility of a mole." I sat back down at that.

"A mole?" I asked, glancing at T.J. Was that why he was so scared?

"That's what Thomason uncovered in his efforts to find who is tracking you." Hess explained. "Someone within our organization is leaking our information."

"That's…" T.J. muttered. "That's how we believe the vampire found you, when you were with Castiel."

"And how we believe that Diana Nyx and Erin Willis were connected back to you." Hess concluded.

"This makes no sense." I replied. "How in the hell does this connect back to the girl, Eileen?"

"She may lead us back to the mole." Hess answered. "And in any case, she still murdered one of our own, and still needs to be found and brought back to justice." It still didn't make any sense to me. It was… It was too many bombshells in one day. The Men of Letters, possibly compromised? This woman I don't even know, one that killed another Man of Letters, trying to hunt down and kill me next? Somehow Abernathy was still mixed in? None of it made any sense.

But maybe going to Ireland would help us find out what's going on.

"Go to Ireland." I concluded. "Track Eileen. See what she leads us to. Don't die."

"Precisely." Hess nodded. I glanced over at T.J., who still looked nervous, but not nearly as much. I wanted to talk with him about it later. He was usually much calmer and more assured than this. There had to be something he wasn't telling me.

"I'll do it." I agreed. "Will we be acquiring new gear to prevent the possibility of our whereabouts being compromised?"

"You'll be set up and taken care of in the armory." Hess agreed. "Including new phones, new computers, and I will personally deliver you your new identities for the trip."

"Both of us?" I asked. Hess nodded.

"I would rather tread as carefully as possible, in these uncertain times." She stated. "Until things are under control in America."

"And here." I agreed. She just simply nodded again.

"Deactivate Procedure 12-18." Hess ordered, looking up slightly. "Authorization H1."

"Confirmed." I felt the dampener remove itself, and the locks all clicked to unlocked with it. "Report to the Amory immediately. They'll also equip you with what you'll need to run surveillance on Ms. Leahy." T.J. got up at that, walking out of the room. I couldn't help but hesitate, though. Something still felt off.

"Is something wrong, Ms. Dillinger?" Dr. Hess asked. I wanted to say yes, but I didn't know what it was. It was just… A feeling.

"No." I decided. "Sorry. I'll head to the armory now."

"Very well." Hess replied. I walked out, still feeling like something was just… Off.


	36. Falling Apart

We got a fair amount of surveillance equipment from the Armory. Phone taps, a laptop monitor, a digital tracker (I could've done the same with magic and five minutes of time), and a few mics to tap her room if we could get that far. We also each got a new phone and laptop, as promised (however I did make sure I could keep my own phone, in case of an emergency). Finally, weapons-wise, we got a few miscellaneous items in case of any supernatural interference. Some shit against shifters, vampires, werewolves, and more popular Irish creatures like banshees, selkies, kelpies, leprechauns (nastier than you'd think, trust me), and a few other things that I wasn't certain on how to replicate the names said to me, much less spell them.

T.J. and I didn't say much to each other as we got ready, something that was definitely uncommon. Usually when we were together, we were joking around and enjoying ourselves. This, though… This was tense. This was uncertain. This was something important that wasn't being said, and by God I was going to find out what. Just not here. Later, when it was just us.

On our way out, we were given 4 folders. One went to each of us as a new identity, one was on Eileen, and the last one was building information on places she frequented (including the layout of her hotel room). "Place the taps, monitor her, and await further instructions." Hess ordered. I nodded once, and reached for T.J.'s hand. I could get us to the airport quicker than any car, after all.

That's not where I took us, though. I took us to the Cabin. T.J. looked around at his new surroundings, confused as hell.

"Why are we here?" He asked.

"To talk." I answered. "We have five minutes. Tell me what's wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"You're quiet and nervous. You haven't been like this since we first met." I explained. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He argued.

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"Yeah you are." I replied. "You're not doing the normal thing you do when you lie, but you're lying."

"What's the normal thing I do?"

"Your hand twitches a little bit, like you're tapping out something." I answered, extremely matter-of-factly. "That's beside the point. Why are you lying?"

"I'm not lying!" He argued.

"I can prove you are and you know it." I responded. "We only have three minutes. Tell me now or deal with an insufferable me that we both know will win this argument in Ireland, however I'd personally rather not deal with it there because I'd rather get our assignment done." T.J. stood looking at me, gritting his teeth.

"I'm… worried." He admitted.

"No shit."

"About you."

"Why me?"

"Because… I fear that I may lose my best friend." He answered. "And I won't be able to do anything to stop it." I stared at him, confused, and he took a breath. "I've… I've been the one working to find who is after you, and this is the only lead I've gotten since they first attacked you. I feel as though…" He took a deep breath. "None of this has happened before in the Men of Letters. Absolutely none of this, not in recent years. Many things are changing, and with it comes a possible storm. I fear that within that storm, I will fail and as a result, fail you." He rested his head in his hand for a moment. "And that is a very stressful possibility to come to terms with."

"T.J.," I took a breath myself. "That is the biggest piece of sappy bullshit I've ever heard, and my boyfriend is a fucking angel." He looked at me, surprised, and I glanced at my watch. "Look, we're almost out of time, but here's the deal. I don't die." I shrugged. "People keep trying but somehow, they just don't succeed. And with me being magic," I wiggled my fingers, letting a few sparks fly off. "I won't die for a long, long time. I'm grateful for you looking after me, but don't worry too much. I'm gonna be around for a while." I smiled. "OK? You're not losing me." I let out a little laughter. "Besides, we still have Australia, remember?"

"Australia…" He nodded, thinking for a moment. "Yeah, right. Thank you." He sounded, well not exactly more relieved, but better in general. Still uncertain, but not as bad.

"Now come on, we have to catch our plane." I gripped his hand again, and we disappeared to the air. This conversation wasn't over, I knew it wasn't, but we had to keep going.

Our pilot met us at the airstrip, and helped us load on to the plane. We spent the ride mostly silent, working to remember our short-term covers. It didn't take much to disguise myself physically, I was used to that, but remembering the rest took a bit of time. I was supposed to be Bridget Mahoney, and T.J. was now Cullen Brady. I was skeptical about the names – I could pass as Irish physically with some magic health, but T.J…. Not so much.

"Hey, how good is your Irish accent?" I asked him.

"It could use a little work." He replied, attempting said accent. I gritted my teeth at it.

"Maybe we're American-born?" I asked, reading through my profile. T.J. nodded, and after a few moments I let out a small sigh. "Thank God. Tourists visiting. Mine says I'm investigating my roots?"

"Good." T.J. muttered. "Mine says visiting Irish family."

"Nice. Do you know any sign language?"

"Not a bit. Do you?"

"I know all the swear words."

"I don't think that will prove useful." We both snickered at it, though.

That was about all we said to each other on the short flight. We were busy studying what we had, trying to embed it in our brains, and quite frankly I was pretty certain that he was still not telling me something. But I dealt with it then. I'd already gotten him to tell me some of it. The rest, he'd probably tell me when he felt more ready to.

When we landed, we got to work immediately. Got to the hotel, checked in, set up wardings around the room (including salt lines), and pulled out the laptops and information. "What does the intel say she's doing right around now?"

"She…" He looked for a second. "This is a bit of a flexible zone, but she tends to go to the…" I looked over and he squinted for a moment. "Some sort of bar with an Irish name that I'm not certain I can pronounce."

"Let me see it." I offered, and he passed the file to me. It was definitely a local bar, but as to what the hell it was called I also had nothing.

"We're just gonna call it the bar." I decided. "And it says she tends to head in there around 9. Wanna stop by at 8:30 to do some establishing?"

"That's… Actually tactically smart." T.J. replied. "Why aren't we finding her now, blazing in head first? That's what you usually do."

"She's trying to kill me, isn't that pretty much the basis of what Hess said, without all the jargon?" I asked. "She's a link in the chain, and a threat to my safety. Plus, she's a Hunter, which means if she recognizes me for what I am she'll know how to kill me." I shrugged. "I've already been dead a few times, and I'm not game for it sticking this time."

"You're quite serious about this mission, aren't you?" He asked. I nodded.

"I know you've worked hard to get all this information, and I don't want to waste it." I replied. "Face it, you're not losing me. I have too much to live for now."

"Alright, then." He muttered, still looking a little confused.

So that's what we did. We ran this by the book, as safely and smartly as carefully as possible. We made sure no details were missed in terms of gathering information, be it tapping her phone or bugging her laptop or setting up mics all over her room or the one camera in her main room or even me slipping a tracer on her (Coin in the pocket. It would also pick up on anything she said verbally and send me a mental alert if she came near a shifter). There wasn't going to be much of anything that she'd be able to do without us knowing about it. We had her.

We just didn't have proof of what she was doing. Not a lot of emails went out from her, and any ones that did were just to other Hunters about different things going on. She got one or two back about hunts near her, but didn't seem to be interested in taking on any. Nothing on the dead Man of Letters. Nothing on her killing any others. Nothing on her killing me.

Phone calls were the same, when she made any. There weren't a lot, though. One or two to an older woman at a nursing home back in the states, one or two out for other Hunters, but not a whole lot. She seemed to be very on her guard, but didn't make any contact to anyone else for some sort of help or information.

She had to slip up sometime, though.

That's what I told myself for the next two weeks as we watched her. She would slip up sometime. We would get a lead. We would go somewhere with this.

However, at the end of two weeks I was about ready to tear my hair out. I had no good signal with my phone, so I couldn't call up Crowley and see what he had. I couldn't even call Dean and Sam and see what they knew. I tried sending them a few emails, but they either bounced back to me or went unanswered. I wasn't surprised about Dean, he was bad at answering his email, but I thought Sam would at least answer me more. As for Crowley… He was probably busy. I only sent him one email before I realized how much I'd already asked of him, and set it aside. He was doing other things. He had his own life. They all had their own lives.

I was just hoping at least one of them would answer me.

Once we hit the end of that two weeks mark, though, I was done. I had spent my entire time scouring through footage and audio, doing my best to find any oddities in her movement patterns and just figure out what the hell she was doing here, what the hell kind of connection she had, and why the hell she was an all-around bad person. My findings – zilch. Squat. Nada. I'd tailed her a few times myself and she did normal things. She got a few drinks. She bought food. She gave money to a dude that was passed out drunk. She went to the library to look up information sometimes (nothing useful, just normal lore research that could generally be correlated to a request she'd gotten via email or her cell phone).

She was just… Just so damn boring.

"I can't take it anymore." I finally told T.J., pacing about the room. I was frustrated. I was doing everything right, every FUCKING THING, and getting nothing. Small sparks flew off of me as I paced, reminding me of the lack of magic usage in the past two weeks as well. I couldn't do anything to make myself known, but by GOD IT WAS SO FUCKING INFURIATING TO DO NOTHING. "I can't do this standby, watch-and-wait, back in the office boring bullshit anymore."

"This is what I did to get the lead we have now." T.J. reminded me.

"But you hate this as much as I do!" I replied. "You loved going out and actually getting in on the action. We're Hunters. We don't watch and wait, we act. We move. We DO."

"Yes, well, times have changed." T.J. said cautiously, eyeing the sparks. They were fizzling out before they touched anything, but their presence was still more than likely concerning. "Some times we must go through boring and tedious things to achieve bigger results."

"Yes, but why are we out here again?" I asked. "Because she killed one of our own, and she's trying to kill me and possibly others. Well, news flash," I pointed at my computer screen. Eileen was in her room, typing something on her laptop. Beside the footage was her computer screen, replicated on my laptop. She was sending an email to a Hunter in Glasgow about a possible case near them. "She hasn't had contact with anyone that would lead to that. Nothing on Abernathy. No shifters near her in general. Nothing on killing another Hunter. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, T.J." I was fuming and frustrated and so done with waiting. I wasn't made to wait, I was made to act, dammit.

"Don't do anything irrational, Kylie," T.J. warned, but I was done with waiting. I shook my head.

"No, I'm going to get information." I said. "I'm going to get it now."

"Wait!" T.J. said, looking panicked. I looked at him, my gaze like fire. I saw the bookshelf behind him start to smoke, and did my best to reign it in.

"What?" I asked, gritting my teeth. "What do you have to say that will make all this waiting and uselessness worth something?"

T.J. still looked panicked, but he walked dutifully over to his laptop and pulled up a new file. It was full of pictures and video. A video of Eileen shooting a guy, but… Sam and Dean were with her. Sam and Dean and Mick. The next picture was her accepting money from Sam and Dean. Pictures of her with them. Pictures of emails she'd sent them, about…

About me.

Sam and Dean warning her about me. Sam and Dean telling her I was bad, telling her my aliases they knew about and that I needed to be killed. Promises of payment. Lots of payment.

"What?" I asked, looking from everything I saw to T.J.. He looked down, unwilling to meet my gaze.

"I'm sorry." He said. "We thought it best not to tell you this information unless it became necessary." I looked at it all a little longer before shaking my head.

"No." I said, shaking it more. "No, this makes no sense. I've been emailing Sam and Dean. They didn't answer, but I did. They know I'm here looking for Eileen. She would know I was here already if it was them." I refused to believe what I was seeing. Sam and Dean wouldn't try to kill me. They were my family. We were OK. They were people I could trust. But so was T.J., and these pictures and emails looked pretty damning.

There was one person in this mix that I didn't trust, though. One that I could get information from.

"I don't know why they haven't told her yet." He said. "Maybe they found a way around our bugs or something. Maybe they want us to kill her so they don't have to pay her." I shook my head again, looking over at him.

"When did this come to killing her?" I asked him. "I thought we were only here to find more links in the chain."

"We are, we are." He assured me, talking much quicker. "But from a Hunter's perspective, it would make more sense to eliminate the threat, you know?"

"Then where is Abernathy in all of this?" I asked in response, turning back to the file. I flicked through everything quickly, but found nothing on Abernathy. No images. No emails. No nothing. "You guys said you had correspondence. Where's that proof?" T.J. slammed the laptop shut, giving me the barest amount of time to move my fingers out of the way.

"I think you need to take a moment to calm down, and remember our priorities." T.J. said calmly, still speaking a little faster than normal.

"I'll calm down when I get some fucking answers." I replied. "And by God, I'm going to go get some."

In an instant I was in Eileen's room, absolutely fuming. She turned, pulling a gun to point at me. "Who are you?" She asked.

"Not important." I answered, flicking my wrist. Her gun flew to the side, far from her grasp. She tried to run after it, but I moved faster, holding up my opposite hand to pin her to the wall.

"What do you want?!" She said, squirming against my magic. I advanced on her quickly, floating upwards just enough to put me at head height with her.

"Some goddamn answers." I replied, placing my hand on her head. "And you're going to give them to me." I pushed with the angelic grace, not even certain of exactly what I was doing, but certain that it would work.

I flickered through her memories, searching for whatever information I needed. Why she took the payment, the emails she'd sent, anything and everything that would answer the questions we had.

Instead, I found something different. I found fear. I found shame. I found regret. I found the memory of her shooting the Man of Letters, but it was different. There was a woman, pulling Kelly Kline. Dagon. It had to be.

I watched through Eileen's eyes as she raised the Colt to fire one shot, aiming for the Prince of Hell. I watched as it disappeared with Kelly before the bullet could hit, causing the person behind them to receive the fatal shot instead. It was an accident. She felt so awful, so scared.

I watched Sam and Dean give her some money. "Go get yourself something to help." Sam said, looking at her with kind eyes. "Some tea or good food or something."

"Try one of those bath bomb things." Dean suggested, offering a joking smile. "I hear they work wonders."

"And here," Sam handed her a piece of paper. "This is the name of a friend of ours. She's a good person, you can trust her. If you call her, she'll come and help." The number on the paper was my own, before I'd come here and gotten a new phone.

I hadn't gotten a call from this woman, though. Not even a text.

She ended up using the money to help her get here, to Ireland. Her homeland. Where she was from.

She tried emailing Sam and Dean, emails I never saw asking for help. She kept her head down, doing what she could to make amends, but she was terrified of going on a hunt herself again. She'd just killed a person. She didn't want to go on a hunt. She wanted to help others, but she couldn't do it herself. She called me, once, but I didn't answer. I don't think I ever even got that call.

She didn't know the name Louis Abernathy.

All she knew about me was what Dean and Sam had told her.

I stepped away, letting her down as quickly and safely as possible. "You were in my head!" She screeched, scrambling once more for her gun. This time, though, I let her. I was too busy trying to understand everything I'd been told. "How did you do that? What are you?"

"Hold on." I told her, raising a hand. She flinched, but nothing happened. "Do you know who I am?"

"I know you're a monster that's about to get it." She replied, firing off a single shot. I moved just enough for it to miss, and quickly ensured the rest of her bullets were gone.

"Do you know my name?" I asked again, my mind racing. This didn't make any sense. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. "Do you know who I am?"

"No!" She replied. "I don't!" She tried to shoot again, but all she got was an empty click. She scrambled away to her bed, grabbing a knife.

I heard kicking on the door, and a few seconds later T.J. was in the room, his own gun cocked and ready. "Kylie, get behind me!" He shouted, raising his gun to fire.

"STOP!" I shouted, pushing my hands out. All weapons flew to the side, out of everyone's grasp. "T.J., she doesn't know anything." I told him, looking over at Eileen. "She doesn't know."

"Did…" She pointed at T.J. "Did he call you Kylie?"

"She is a dangerous Hunter, Kylie." T.J. reminded me. "She's lying to you. She's going to kill you."

"What are you talking about?!" She asked, getting up. She took one step towards T.J., and suddenly I could feel something in my head, like a ping.

Like the ping from the coin I'd put on Eileen.

I stopped completely, looking from Eileen to T.J. He hadn't been there when I'd put the spell on the coin. He never went out to follow her. But… But T.J. was my friend. I would've known. I would've seen the differences.

"T.J.," I took a few deep breaths, looking over at him. His face paled, and in that instant I knew. I knew I'd been lied to. I knew he wasn't my friend. He hadn't been my friend for a long time. I grabbed Eileen first, then T.J., before we disappeared out of the very bugged room and somewhere that we hopefully wouldn't be found easily.


	37. The Truth About TJ

When I got to the stump, I could easily see the disturbed dirt. He'd been in America with me for a long time, though. When had he gotten back here?

Then again, I'd been with Castiel for a while, and he hadn't always been him. He had time.

I put a hand out, feeling for the metal briefcase within it. I couldn't, though. It was… It was warded against, well, everything. Against any and all magic I could use against it. Against being tracked.

Damn.

I shoved whatever the fake T.J. had pressed in to my palm in to my pocket, and dug for the briefcase with my hands, throwing a small spell up around me to keep any random passersby from seeing what I was doing. Once I had it out, I looked at the runework. It almost physically hurt to hold, but at the same time I knew that if I wasn't the one holding it, it would almost burn anyone else.

Then my hand closed around the object again, and I pulled it out. It was a small key.

He was always the thinker.

I unlocked the briefcase, and saw it was almost filled with different files and DVDs, along with a small portable DVD player. I pulled out each file individually, reading the names on them.

 _D. Winchester – Hun_

 _S. Winchester – Hun_

 _M. Winchester – Hun_

 _J. Winchester – Hun._

 _Castiel – An_

 _R. MacLeod – Wit_

 _Crowley – De_

 _K. Dillinger – Wit_

 _L. Tran – Hum_

 _T. Jones – Hun_

 _L. Abernathy – SS_

 _A. Ketch – MoL_

 _M. Davies – MoL_

 _K. Kline – Hum_

 _B. Kline – Neph._

 _Drive Files_

 _Proj. V._

 _Proj. Humanity_

 _Proj. Assm._

 _Proj. Assm. – Wit (Files)_

 _Proj. Assm. – Wit (Aud./Vid. Trans.)_

 _Proj. W._

 _Proj. WW._

 _Proj. SS._

 _Proj. De._

 _Proj. An._

I felt dread as I looked at each file's name. There was information on all of us, all of the major players. There were only two names on files that I didn't know, not including any of the Project files. J. Winchester and L. Abernathy. I knew who J was, though. John Winchester, Mary's dead husband and Sam and Dean's dad. Abernathy, though…

I opened that one first, and read through the small file. Louis Abernathy, Shapeshifter, captured while I was gone in America. Offered a deal.

Impersonate one of their own, and follow orders, or die.

 _T. Jones' insubordination led to his immediate dismissal from the Men of Letters, however his position was still vital to Proj. Assm. – Wit, so we had to resort to less-than-desirable. Mr. Abernathy, a recently acquired Shapeshifter, was offered the option to continue on in Mr. Jones' place or be put down with the rest of his kind._

 _He will be monitored to the most rigorous extent and, if needed, put down._

Next to that was a picture of who Louis had looked like when they picked him up – dark skin, short dark hair, but bright green eyes. He looked terrified, though. Absolutely terrified. The file put him as being 6'4" when they picked him up.

They'd found him thanks to the improved wardings I'd done.

His medical information was next under it, along with tags at the bottom, referencing to four other files. Proj. Assm. – Wit (Files)/(Aud/Vid Trans.), T. Jones – Hun, and my file. I took a deep breath before pulling out a slightly thicker one, the one for my friend that I thought had sent me here. It had a large stamp over the front of it, same as the one for Davies and John and Mrs. Tran, with three letters printed on it in big, red print.

 ** _DEC_**

 _ **Deceased.**_

I opened it gingerly, afraid of what the first thing I would see was. It was a picture of T.J., his…

His head cut off.

Subject's modified machete was examined and tested for usage. After turning the subject in to a Vampire, we had his replacement train until he could mimic said subject perfectly and, subsequently, decapitate a vampire like a proper Hunter.

Louis, the T.J. I'd been around for Project V, he had been made to kill T.J. But why? What insubordination had he done? He was always the one trying to keep me from bending the rules, and shit, I'd done it tons of times. Why was I alive?

Then again, they were now trying to kill me.

I looked back at other pages in T.J.'s file, and sat in abject horror as I read through them. He was a plant. A spy. He was only supposed to imitate being my friend, so that they could keep tabs on me. My phone and his, they had both been tapped and listened to.

 _For audio/video notes and recordings, please see D-T-J 1-7._

I rifled through the DVDs until I found the first one, and put it in to the small player. I saw T.J.'s face, bright and shining, but at the same time nervous. He sat in what I came to learn as his apartment, the poster of Elton John offering an interesting backdrop

"Hello," he said, looking in to the camera. "For the records, my name is Agent Thomason Jones. I am here for Project Assimilation, Witch." He pulled out a file of his own, a copy of one of the ones I saw here; the one with my name on it. "I'm supposed to monitor her movements from afar until I am noticed by her. From their my cover story is that I was hired by Lady Bevell to stalk her against my will, and afterwards use that to befriend her." He rolled his eyes, offering a small scoff. "Befriending a witch will be absolutely atrocious. Whatever possessed the Old Men to take on this vile thing and make her an 'ally' has me questioning their reasons." He sighed. "At the same time, orders are orders, and they most definitely have a higher plan in order. I can only be grateful that I've been given such an important assignment." Another scoff. "Even though it's with befriending vermin."

There was a static break, then on to the next one. "Hello, my name is Agent Thomason, and it has been one week since I started trailing the witch known as Kylie Dillinger." He smirked, rolling his eyes. "Some Hunter she used to be. Bloody American hasn't even noticed me tailing her yet. This may take longer than expected. If it goes in to three or four weeks without her notice, I will make more obvious attempts and even approach her outright."

More static. Then he returned, his face slightly sheepish. "The witch made contact with me today," he said. "She actually trapped me in to it, and revealed that she had known my following her from the beginning." They went on like that, him doing these videos once a week and telling everything, including recordings of conversations and phone calls that I didn't even know had been recorded in the first place.

I skipped ahead until I saw something new. T.J. in an interrogation room, chained to the table. "Let me go!" He demanded. "I've done nothing wrong!"

"You haven't?" Ketch entered the screen, pacing in his normal calm manner. This one was different, though. It was more feral. More controlled. More…. Emotionless. He nodded to someone offscreen, and an audio recording was played.

 _"GODDAMMIT KYLIE!" T.J.'s own voice, shouting. "WHAT IN THE HELL?!"_

 _"Is this going to be how you greet me every time now? With shouting?"_

 _"I'm on the corner of where your apartment was. Come here, right now, so I can… Bloody hell, I don't know! Hug you or beat the living shit out of you or something!"_ T.J.'s face fell as Ketch paused the recording.

"You were under strict orders to not suggest her leaving America, first off," Ketch stated. "What do you have to say for that?"

"I was reacting as to how she would expect me to." T.J. argued, composing himself once more. "She would expect me to be overtly worried, and I knew she wouldn't return. It was a tactical response so I could continue playing the role set for me."

"Yet within the short conversation you didn't ask about what she was up to right then with what she called 'prior commitments.'" Ketch nodded to the same person off-screen again, and I heard my own voice from the recording.

 _"Look, I can't. I've got… Prior commitments as of right now. But I promise, the second I can drop by to see you I will."_

 _"You bet your ass you're going to."_ Ketch paused the recording again, looking at T.J. expectantly.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I was playing the role set for me." He repeated. "The one she was used to."

"Oh really?" Ketch asked. "And yet, as stated before you both broke protocol in attempting to convince her to return to London, and furthermore didn't bother gaining information as to her whereabouts and aforementioned commitments that she didn't once mention to myself earlier." Ketch raised an eyebrow at him.

"It was a mistake." T.J. said. "I'm sorry."

"Just a mistake?" Ketch asked. He nodded to the person off-screen once more, and they got to work.

 _"Look, just be careful, OK?"_

 _"When am I ever?"_

 _"I'm serious."_

 _"Is something wrong?"_

 _"I'm fine. I promise, I'm fine. I was just… worried about you. You got me here, and I would hate to have you die on me in another country."_

 _"How's this. If I'm not allowed to die in America, you're not allowed to die in Europe. We'll both meet up in Australia or something instead. How's that sound?"_

 _"Just… Promise me you'll be careful. And that you'll call or come right here if something happens."_

 _"I promise. T.J., relax. We're Men of Letters. We're Hunters. This is the life for us. It's nothing new."_

 _"Just be careful."_ The recording ended, and Ketch looked at T.J. expectantly.

"What are you waiting for?" T.J. asked. "Me to lie and tell you whatever moronic thing you've been led to believe?"

"No, I was waiting to see if you would take pity on yourself." He answered, throwing a file on the table. I couldn't see the name to check if I had it in my own stacks. "You're getting much too close to your charge, and it's unacceptable."

"I'm undercover!" T.J. protested. "Things like this happen!"

"Then why do I see that you've recently accessed your own files, as well as hers, and created copies of them?" He pulled out a flash drive from the file, and T.J.'s face paled. "We had our top analysts take a look at this. I will admit, your skills with computers and technology is definitely impressive," he turned it around in the air before putting the flash drive back on the table. "But it wasn't anything three days of work couldn't get through. Let's read some of the files you have on this, shall we?"

"Don't." T.J. begged, any sense of calm or confidence gone from him. Ketch didn't care. He picked up a piece of paper from his file and began reading.

"Dear Kylie, I'm sorry to tell you this but everything you thought you knew about me was a lie." He started, his voice almost mocking. "I didn't want you to learn this way, but I have no other choice. Once you took this drive from me I left, and destroyed everything I could that could lead the Men of Letters to me. I'll be in hiding. If all goes well, then in six months' time I will attempt to contact you. If you are still alive and still wish to see me so we may talk in person, then we will meet. If either of the above end up being negative, then I'm sorry for putting you at risk, but I had to do something to save your life." Ketch paused, looking up from the page at T.J. and raising an eyebrow. "Shall I continue?"

"You're a monster." T.J. spat. "You want to KILL HER!"

"She's not human." Ketch responded. "For the sake of a better, safer world, it's for the best. However, at the moment she is proving entirely useful, so we may just see about rehabilitating her instead."

"That's bullshit and you know it." T.J. argued. "You'll put a bullet in her eyes and call it a safekeeping clause or some bloody shit like that."

"Actually, we won't have to." Ketch stated, walking out of view. When he walked back in he set something down in front of T.J. that I couldn't quite make out. It looked familiar though.

"No." T.J. said, his voice slightly shaky. "She told me about how awful that thing is. You HEARD her talk about what Lucifer made her do, what anybody could make her do with it. It's cruel. It's inhumane. It's," Ketch interrupted with ease.

"Easy to use, and if the time comes, entirely necessary." He held it up, inspecting the object closely, and I felt my stomach drop when I saw the leash attached to the collar. They had a witchcatcher.

They were willing to use it, too.

"There is, of course, the option of Lady Bevell's reprogramming techniques as well." Ketch reminded him. "Which, out of the three, is preferred. Nothing is better than an operative that is willing and cooperative," he walked out of view, depositing the witchcatcher somewhere I couldn't see. "Unlike you, who decided to disobey your orders and break the Code."

"The Code is bullshit!" T.J. shouted. "This whole mission and ideology is bullshit! Not all creatures are bad!"

"They're dangerous." Ketch stated. "Or have you forgotten what happened to your own family?"

"Kylie's not like that." T.J. argued. "The angel she loves, Castiel, he's not like that! The demon she learned from, Crowley, he's not completely bad! The Reaper that saved her isn't bad! The witch that she learned the rest from isn't all bad! Not all monsters are bad!" He shook his head. "That black and white world you teach doesn't exist. There is grey area. There is room for good in what you would consider bad."

"You truly have fallen far from your teachings if that's what you believe now." Ketch said. He stopped, thinking. "Maybe I should make a demonstration out of you," he thought. "Prove that it doesn't matter who or what a monster was, what matters is what they became."

"What do you mean?" T.J. asked. When Ketch didn't answer, he started jerking against his binds. "Ketch, what the bloody hell do you mean!"

"You forget, T.J.," Ketch said, walking off screen. "Everyone can be replaced, and all monsters are killers, no matter what."

"Ketch!" T.J. shouted, struggling furiously now. "KETCH!"

There was static in the video, and someone else walked in. Louis Abernathy, or at least how he looked in his picture. T.J. looked up at him, confused. "Who are you?"

"Louis," he answered, sitting across from T.J. He had a slight southern drawl to his voice. "For now, anyways."

"You're a shapeshifter." T.J. deduced. "And they let you in here? Why?"

"I'm buying my freedom." Louis answered. "But I wanted to talk with you first, see what you would tell me off the bat."

"I'm not telling you anything."

"You see, that's where you're wrong." Louis said. "No matter what, you're talking. It's just a question of what I have to do first."

"And no matter what, you're dead." T.J. argued. "Whatever deal they offered you, they're lying."

"You think so?" Louis asked. "You really do? Because I would've thought the same, except that I'm here right now and not dead in a gutter."

"They're going to kill you." T.J. repeated. "They don't care. They're just using you."

"You know, I don't think that talking is really getting me anywhere," Louis decided, shaking his head. "I think I'll just grab the information myself." He stood up, reached across to struggling T.J., and gripped his hand tightly.

In a matter of minutes, I watched as Louis transformed in to T.J., his skin peeling off in to a gross, slimy pile beneath him. Once he was done, he kicked the remains across the room and sat back down. "There we go. Much better, don't you think?" Louis sat, thinking for a while. "Wow. I mean WOW. You got a lot of messed up in here, don't you?" It was T.J.'s voice, T.J.'s mouth, T.J.'s face, but… It was like when Lucifer was possessing Cas. Same voice. Same look. Different expressions, different accents. Louis still had that southern drawl.

"You're making a mistake." T.J. said. "You're selling out to demons."

"No, I'm just doing what it takes to survive." Louis stated. "It's either me here, now, or they're going to kill me and replace me with someone else."

"You're a person, I know you are." T.J. tried. "This can't be right to you. You've got to see that this isn't fair."

"I ain't people, Brit." Louis reminded him. "Not to you."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm in your head as we speak!" Louis shouted. "I know what you think. You thought that witch was a thing, an it, a monster. You think I am too. You're disgusted by me, and by the fact that I look like you right now. I'm not people to you, much less to anyone.

"But the Men of Letters exterminated everything that was non-human from London." T.J. pointed out.

Louis paused for a second, then shook his head. "You're a good person, if more than a little messed up. I'm not the biggest fan of doing this. But right now, if I've got to choose between prolonging your life a little longer versus saving mine," He stood up, offering T.J. a last sad look. "I think you know what your decision would be, as well as mine now." With that, he walked off camera for a moment. When he came back, he had a machete and a red syringe. T.J. stared at them cautiously.

"What're those for?" He finally asked. "Do you think you can kill me?"

"Yes, actually." Louis said. "After all, I'm now you. And T.J.," he stopped, adjusting his clothes and fixing his voice so that it no longer bore the southern drawl. The facial expressions followed, and when he next spoke I couldn't have told the difference between them if I hadn't known. "I'm sorry, Kylie's good friend Thomason Jones is being requested In America to help her with her work. She'll be excited to see me there."

"You think you can kill a vampire?!" T.J. laughed. "Have you ever done that before?"

"No." Louis admitted, prepping the syringe. He wasn't facing T.J., so he couldn't see what I saw. For a moment, Louis looked… Sad. Hurt. He didn't want to do this, he just had to. Louis flicked the syringe twice, then turned sharply and jabbed it in to T.J.'s neck. T.J. howled in pain as Louis injected him with whatever had been in it, and once he was done threw the item in the corner.

"What did you do?!" T.J. asked. Louis looked over at someone off camera, picking up the machete as he nodded to them. The shackles around T.J. were released automatically, and I could just barely make out the sound of a door sliding shut.

"It's preferred that you stay in play, as an ally to the witch," Louis explained. "However if I can't complete the task of a Hunter, then we'll both die and they'll make up some fable about you dying on assignment. Now, I'm a desperate shapeshifter that's been offered a new lease on life," his accent slipped, for a moment, back in to that southern sound. "And you, you've been in here for weeks with the barest minimum offered to keep you alive. In that time I've been taught how to fight and win, especially against vampires. You're a newly turned vamp with no control over their abilities." T.J. stopped completely as he realized what had been done to him, what had been in that syringe.

Vampire blood.

They had turned T.J., but why?

"Who do you think will win?" Louis asked.

"I'll kill you!" T.J. shouted, lunging at the shifter. He moved quickly, though. Much quicker than I would've expected. A short duck and sidestep, followed by a swift upward slash with the machete.

T.J. was dead in seconds, his head rolling somewhere I couldn't see on the floor. But I could still see the picture in my mind. It made me want to vomit.

"Well done," I heard Ketch's voice over an intercom. He walked in, stepping over T.J.'s body to shake Louis' hand. "You're ready."

"Thank you, sir." Louis was back to speaking just like T.J., and I couldn't take it anymore at that point. I shut it all off, slamming the DVD player closed and looking at everything else in front of me.

T.J. was dead. He had been dead for a long time. He had been replaced. I hadn't even realized it. His replacement was dead.

Mick was dead. Ketch had killed him. He had been dead for a few weeks now.

And they were going to kill me next. There was so much more information in these files, information I hadn't even looked at or touched yet, but there was one more I had to look at.

Mrs. Tran's file. I had a sickening feeling as I opened it, and the first picture was the same one I'd seen in the police report, the one of the crash.

This file wasn't too big. It recapped my living with her, and her death. When I got to that part, though, I almost threw up.

 _Killed to incentivize Kylie to join Men of Letters in London. It was believed that the less ties she could consider familial in America, the higher the chances would be that she would join us._

 _Plan successfully lead by A. Ketch._

It hadn't been an accident.

It had been murder. They'd caused the wreck to kill her.

I put all the folders and everything back in the briefcase, and closed it up. I needed to be somewhere safer, somewhere I couldn't be found, as I went over all of this.


	38. Fireworks

I almost called Crowley, but I stopped before my hand could reach my pocket. I'd burned my new phone, but not only did they have my other one, they'd had it tapped for a long time. Granted, it could've been T.J.'s or my phone tapped, but I didn't know. I couldn't know for sure. Either way, I needed a new phone, a new place to lie low, just a lot of new. Until I knew more, I couldn't take any chances. But I couldn't learn more until I was in a safer place, one I was certain hadn't been compromised.

I didn't have my laptop on me, but I wished I did, even though I would have to scan it later for any bugs. Danny was good, she was a genius, but I wasn't certain if she could protect it from the Men of Letters. I needed… I needed…

I needed to take a breath, to be calm, and to assess the situation logically. I couldn't break down and cry, not now. I couldn't let my emotions get the better of me, or else my magic would go wild and give me away.

I needed to be calm, to be confident and assured and make sure I didn't make any mistakes.

I looked down at my clothes. I'd bought these with Men of Letters money. I needed new clothes. I needed a phone, one the Men of Letters hadn't touched.

And I needed to get in touch with Crowley. He might be able to hide me in Hell. I couldn't ask Sam and Dean because they were still too close, it wouldn't be safe to try and get in touch with them. I couldn't ask Mary either. I couldn't even ask Cas because he was still MIA, out with the angels, and going to him when he and the Men of Letters were working toward the same goal… I shook my head. I couldn't risk that.

On the bright side, he would at least know that I was still alive.

I took another breath, making sure I was calm before using a spell I hadn't had to use in a long time. I would be unrecognizable, again, but the energy spike wouldn't go unnoticed. I had twenty minutes, max, before I was found. Twenty minutes to get new clothes, a new phone, and a hiding place.

I could do that. I had to believe I could do that.

I started walking, keeping my head down and my steps quick. If I teleported somewhere, it would send up another flare, and get them on me faster. So I had to walk to the nearest clothing store, five minute walk. From there, I needed a phone. Any phone.

I hadn't done this in a while. I found a random passerby with a phone in their pocket, and picked it off of them with ease. I needed a wallet, too. Maybe three, to alternate between cards used. I grabbed four. Two male, two female, all entirely different people. I used the cash from the first one to pay for clothes (not a lot on them, but just enough to for some baggy clothes and hair dye).

I stopped at a gas station next, and got to work with the worst hair dye job I've ever done in my life (a shitty brown dye job). But I didn't have a lot of time to be picky about it, so it would have to do.

I burned the old clothes in that same bathroom, and left before the sprinkler system could turn on. Once I was done I sat in an alley and took a short inventory. One briefcase with contents I couldn't finish looking at yet. Four wallets, one of which had zero cash. The other three had varying amounts of money, plus a few credit and debit cards. One new set of clothes and…

One phone.

I had Crowley's number memorized. I dialed it with ease, and he answered it on the third ring. "Hello, this is the hotline to hell, named such because," I interrupted before he finished.

"Crowley, it's me. I need your help." I stated, trying to keep the urgency out of my voice. I couldn't keep all of it out, though, and enough creeped in for him to hear.

"Kylie?" He asked. "Where have you been? What's wrong?"

"Long story short, I need to hide." I said, looking around. "Please. I need you to help me get in to Hell. I can't teleport there, but then again nobody else can either." I laughed a little. "I just need somewhere I can't be found."

"What about the cabin in Utah?"

"I think it's been compromised." I argued. "I can't go there. Please," I knew I sounded desperate. I was fully aware of how desperate and scared I sounded. "I need somewhere I can't be tracked or found."

"Where are you?" Crowley finally asked. "I'll come to you."

"Can't," I shook my head, looking around more. "London. They'll find you. I doubt that they're far behind me. If I'm teleporting out I need to get somewhere safe."

"Alright. Can you meet me at the cantina?" He asked. I thought about it. Probably wouldn't be monitored. Not really any Hunters nearby. I disappeared and reappeared there automatically, sitting in a booth in the corner.

"I'm there now." I said. The line went dead, and Crowley walked in a moment later. He looked around, not seeing me.

Oh yeah. New hair. New clothes.

I waved him over, and nodded, sitting across from me. "You look different." He stated. "What did you do to your hair? It looks like you destroyed it with…" He paused for a moment. "Well, I'd rather not be impolite about it."

"Crowley," I clenched my fist tighter around the handle of the briefcase. "I've just learned a lot of shit that I wasn't quite prepared to learn today. Everything has just been turned upside-down around me and I need help." I threw up a spell around us, keeping others out of hearing our conversation. "Please tell me you can help me."

He sat, watching me closely. "You're scared." He said.

"Yeah." I admitted, looking around. Just because I had a spell up here didn't mean they wouldn't have people here anyways. "I really am, Crowley." He hadn't seen me scared before, not like this. Determined, yes. Angry, yes. A little happy even, yes. But scared, especially like this…

No. He hadn't seen me scared before.

That was how important this was.

"Please, Crowley, I need you to take me to Hell." I requested again. "I need somewhere I can't be found. I promise, I'll tell you everything, but first I just need a place to hide."

Crowley nodded. "I'll get you there. I promise."

"Thank you." I let out a sigh of relief, slumping back in my seat a little bit. "Thank you. Can we please leave now? I'm sorry. I know I'm rushing about this, but I don't feel comfortable being out like this for too long."

"Do you want a drink first?" He offered. "You look like you could use one." I looked around again, making sure there was absolutely no chance of Hunters or Men of Letters operatives anywhere.

"OK," I agreed, doing my best to calm down. "Sorry, I must seem like a total mess."

"Don't worry," Crowley assured me. "Things will be alright."

"How are you so certain?" I asked.

"Because you were like this when I first met you," he responded. "And you made it through that without dying."

"Didn't you end up killing me?"

"That's beside the point." Crowley said, getting up. "I'm going to get us two drinks, and then we'll go to Hell."

"Thank you." I repeated. "Just… I can't thank you enough, Crowley."

"Don't worry," he assured me. "Everything will be fine."

After we drank, e took me back to, well… Hell. I didn't trust the cabin. I didn't trust the Bunker. I didn't trust anywhere that I had been before or that the Men of Letters could get to me from. I trusted Crowley, though, and I trusted that he would keep me safe.

So I hid out in Hell. Only one demon found it worthwhile to make an attempt against me, and in turn only one demon during my stay met an extremely unfortunate demise. In my defense, I asked Crowley first and was in a very volatile state. I had every reason to be.

I knew. I knew so much.

I knew that the second they'd got wind of who I was, they worked frantically to formulate a plan. A powerful, impressionable, trainable witch. One that, to them, could be weaponized or killed. A tool.

That was all I was to them. A tool. A fucking tool. I wasn't one of them, and I never was. I was just something they were going to use until I no longer became convenient to them. I was a means to an end. Hell, they were the ones leaking the fucking information on me! They were finished with me, finished with having "an impure being that is a true menace to this Earth" on the payroll. I made my way through the rest of the files as efficiently as I could, taking notes by hand as I did. I wanted to send all of this information to Sam and Dean, to warn them, but I didn't know how. Anything I did would send up a flare and probably cause them to be killed. I couldn't even pass a message along to Castiel. With the amount of reach they had…

Every electronic device they owned was tapped. They knew where everyone was. They knew what everyone was up to. The only thing they (hopefully) didn't know now was where I was.

It was insane, though, the way they kept track of everyone. I just… I couldn't believe it. It was creepy and made me feel so violated. There were transcriptions of conversations I'd had with Crowley, with T.J., with Sam and Dean and Mary and Cas and absolutely everyone I knew. There were notes about the calls, notes about my actions, notes about fucking everything. They were sterile, calculatory… emotionless.

Very, very, very violated right there, man. So violated I needed about 12 showers.

I took a break, eventually, after going through all the files concerning me, T.J., Louis, Dean, Sam, Mary, and Cas. It was awful to read about their plans for Mary, and about Lady Bevell's specialty. I just had to hope they hadn't started with it yet, or else… Or else she ran the risk of breaking her brain if we wanted to bring the real Mary back.

I didn't need to read much about Mick's, and in all honesty I was terrified about Ketch's. He had killed Mick, but he had been my friend. Ketch had brought me in to this. I knew if I opened that file, it would hurt more than it helped.

Granted, though, all of this hurt more than helped. It just helped enough to make it all worth reading and watching and…

I had to puke once or twice throughout reading all of it though. It made me feel sick and it all hurt so much. I didn't know how to deal with all of it. I wasn't even certain if I wanted to. I just…

I thought I was good.

I thought I was finally good, finally doing good and helping to make the world better.

Instead I was working for people that were willing to kill me off at a moments notice. I… I slaughtered so many vampires. I was sent to kill Eileen. Who… what…

How many bad things had I done for them?

So when I took a break, doodling spell outlines that I had been working on. There was still that one, the one that I could create with ease but had no clue as to what its purpose was. There was a large symbol in the center, bunch of ingredients in a bowl and some blood and... It seemed imbalanced. There were things missing.

Hell, my own life was imbalanced with things missing at that moment. How did I know I wasn't just projecting that on to the spell?

There was a knock on the door, bringing out of my own thoughts. I waved it open, but didn't bother looking as Crowley walked in.

"Hello."

"Hey." I knew I didn't look well. I hadn't really left this room since I'd been here. I'd just taken… so many notes. Watched and learned so much information.

Well, that's a lie. The only time I left was to deal with that demon. But other than that, I'd stayed out of the way and cooped up in the room.

"Have you slept?" That made me look at him.

"Is this a new parenting thing you're trying out?" I asked in response, raising an eyebrow as I faked a smile.

"You haven't." He answered himself, giving me a once-over.

"I don't require it." I replied, raising my arm so he could see the etchings I'd done. I'd been casting spells on myself to stay awake as I went through everything. They were better than the pep pills that Kevin had had.

"That's a dangerous thing to do." Crowley pointed out.

"Yeah, well…" I shrugged, searching for a response. I was surprised to find that I didn't have one. "You know, I don't know. I honestly don't have a good snide comment or defense right now."

"You are in bad shape." He commented, taking a seat beside me. I ran a hand through my hair, ignoring the nots and tangles and feel of grease.

"It… It's been a lot to take in." I said, looking at the files scattered about me. "There's one in here on you too, you know." He raised an eyebrow at that.

"Really?"

"Yeah. That and one titled 'Project Demon.'" I motioned to the folders in question, ones that I had separated from the others. "I haven't looked at them yet."

"Why not?"

"Invasion of your privacy." I said. "Plus, I'm pretty certain it'll be the same as the rest. Kill everything not human. A detailed dossier of who you are, including strengths and weaknesses. The whole spy-guy shebang." I rested my head in my palms, hating everything about this. "And I probably led them to a lot of the information, in all honesty."

"That is complete and utter bullocks." Crowley stated. I picked up the file nearest to me, the one on vampires, and waved it around.

"Really? Is it?" I asked. "I helped them exterminate so many vampires, Crowley. I helped them kill the Alpha."

"Isn't that supposed to be some sort of Hunter wet dream?"

"Not if it was for the wrong reasons." I replied. "I killed them whether they had killed or not. We had no way of knowing whether or not they were bad vampires or good ones."

"Why aren't all vampires bad?" He asked. "I know all demons are bad. I am one."

"Because all vampires can't be bad!" I replied, throwing the file down. "Because if all vampires are bad then that means you can apply that same logic to all inhuman creatures. All werewolves are bad. All shapeshifters are bad. All demons are bad. All angels are bad. All…" I stopped myself from going on for a second, but I had to face the fact. "All witches are bad." I finally said, my voice much quieter. "If everything that isn't pure, normal human is bad… Then… Then I'm bad." I concluded, turning to Crowley. "And I'm going to Hell, because witches are just human enough to not go to Purgatory."

"They're also just human enough to go to Heaven." Crowley replied. I furrowed my brows at him, confused.

"Name one witch that's in Heaven." I dared him. He didn't respond, just sat there and thought. I returned my gaze to my files, my head sinking. "I thought so." I muttered. "I thought I was creating a new world, a better one. I thought I was good. Instead I just… I helped commit a genocide, and helped lay the groundwork to do more. I destroyed more than I created." I let out a hoarse laugh. "Hell, I was vouching for Kelly to have a choice in whether or not she had Lucifer's kid, and she's gonna have it, and it's just going to lead to more destruction." I shook my head, looking at my hands for a moment. I remembered when I was scared to look at them, the first time I killed a demon with them. An angel blade had been in the floorboards. I had just stabbed and hoped, and watched it bleed like a normal human.

Demons were humans once. So was everything else. Every impure thing used to be human, but… But they weren't anymore. No monster ever went to Heaven. No monster was every good enough to be considered that good.

Why should I have ever thought I was better than my own kind?

"I should've just let Lucifer kill me." I decided. "Or Sam and Dean, or any Hunter. I should've just done the right thing that all Hunters do, and put a bullet through my damn skull."

"Don't you dare say that." Crowley hissed, his voice a tense kind of anger.

"Why not?" I asked. "It's the truth."

"No, it's the self-deprecating bullshit you're telling yourself." He replied. "Not the truth."

"Then what is the truth, Crowley?" I asked. "What about what I said was wrong? I saw myself as better than my own kind, above them and everything else."

"Did you ever see yourself above me?" He asked.

"Of course not." I replied, not even thinking about it. I just… I never had. "I saw you as my equal."

"And Castiel?"

"Cas doesn't count."

"But he does." Crowley replied. "Castiel is as inhuman as me. We both require meatsuits to hold a physical form. The only difference is that I was a human originally, but look at me now. I run Hell. I torture souls for sport."

"That's in your nature."

"Is it also in my nature to harbor you?" He asked. "To train you? To speak with you freely, as though we are equals?" I didn't answer that. "Your nature is magic. What you do with it is entirely your choice, but those choices aren't set in stone. They are yours and yours alone."

"I think you're making it worse." I pointed out.

"Just shut up and listen." He said. "What was the first thing I taught you?"

"How to draw up a contract with a demon that doesn't involve selling my soul." I said. Crowley stopped for a second, thinking.

"I believe you technically taught yourself that." He pointed out. "But fine. What was the second thing I taught you?"

"How cast and subsequently rein in fire." I replied.

"How to create and destroy." Crowley simplified. "Magic isn't just about fire and destruction and binding and control and death; it is not defined by simple, black and white terms like good or bad. You can work with both parts of the spectrum, in a sense."

"I create things of destruction." I answered. "All I've done with my magic is destroy."

"You created new wardings."

"I'm surprised they work.

"You created stories out of fire."

"An experiment."

"And yet it still worked, didn't it?" He asked. I didn't bother answering. "Magic is very much a yin and yang force. To create, you must destroy, and vice-versa."

"So how do I create and destroy, Crowley?" I asked. "Because even when I heal, I still somehow seem to destroy something around me. What exactly am I making? What good comes out of what I do anymore?" Crowley let out a sigh, and stood up.

"Come with me." He requested, putting a hand on my shoulder. In an instant, we were… In a field. An open, empty field. And it was dark. For a moment, I couldn't help but wonder exactly how long I'd been awake and in Hell.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter."

"Crowley, if they find me I'm dead."

"You won't be found." He promised. I still threw up a silencing field around us, as a precaution. "I want you to try a new exercise."

"What am I doing?"

"You are going to make fireworks."

"Why?"

"Because I said so." I pursed my lips, glaring at him. I probably wouldn't be able to leave this field until I did it.

"This is lame and pointless." I pointed out, taking a moment to focus. I put both hands out, palms up, and thought about it. How would I do such a thing as to create fireworks? I could throw fire and summon it, that was a piece of cake. But make it explode in the air in to something new? That would be an interesting one. As an experiment I summoned a small fireball. It was green, and burning as bright as it could. I thought for maybe a moment longer before held my hand out and up, willing the small ball to shoot itself forwards. It did, and in an instant exploded in to something… Something new. Something kinda pretty. Green glimmering lights, all falling towards the ground in slow motion.

"Note to self." I muttered, summoning another. This one was pink. I did the same, and it created a small, simple flower shape as it fell towards the ground. A third, white, turned in to a basic wing shape.

I summoned a blue flame this time, and decided to see if I could control its shape. Something simple. A circle.

I focused on the idea of the blue circle, careful not to press too hard on it. Once I was sure I had the image solidified in my mind, I watched as my blue fire shot in to the air. As it exploded, it created a very wobbly and misshaped amoeba, vaguely in the shape of a circle.

But it was a start.

"Impressive." Crowley commented. The fires disappeared from my hands as though they never existed. In doing the exercise, I'd completely forgotten he had been there. I shook my head, clearing it out.

"Ok, I can make pretty exploding fireballs." I conceded. "I completed your exercise. What does that have to do with creation or destruction? All fire does is consume and destroy."

"Keep making them. I'll explain as you go." He said. I decided to take a seat. If I was going to listen to this and do the exercise, I was at least going to be comfortable.

"Fine." I agreed, summoning another fireball. This one was purple. I cast it out, a little haphazardly, but it still exploded in to a not-half-bad triangle. Another, a dark and burnt yellow, I tossed with more precision. This time, it managed to make a pretty decent pentagon. As I continued, so did Crowley.

"You create the fire, it's color and shape," Crowley opened his palm, and when I looked over I saw a small blue flame dancing across his palm. "And you destroy your own creation when you snuff it out." He closed his hand in to a fist quickly, then opened it again. No more fire. I threw out another one myself. It was black, and made a much better circle. "Situationally, you can destroy a plant or something if you create the fire, but you still end up destroying the fire as well." He added. "It's the same idea when you heal someone. To create their new life, you destroy parts of your own."

I thought on this for a while, this time lighting my fires and extinguishing them before they could become fireworks. "Why are you being kind to me?" I asked after a little bit. "And don't give me the protecting your assets bullshit again. If it were just that we wouldn't be out here. Why are you acting so much…" I thought for a moment, and remembered something Rowena had said a long time ago. "Like a dad?"

"I'm the King of Hell, darling, not a father figure." He answered, letting out a small snort. "Besides, I'm the least likely person to be a father figure. Look at my mother."

"You tried with Amara." I pointed out.

"I tried to coerce Amara in to doing my bidding by bribing her with false senses of security. Pure Stockholm work." He explained.

"You fed her, clothed her, and kept her safe."

"The Winchesters did the same for you."

"I looked at them like family." I responded. "And you did the same for me."

"Does that make me family?" He asked slyly. A year or two ago I would've snorted, and cast the idea aside as easily as I do fire. But now...

"I don't know." I finally said. "I think it at least makes you a very good friend."

"Why thank you." He said in mock surprise. "I do believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Don't waste it, Crowley." I reminded him, going back to work on the fireworks exercise.

We stayed there in silence for a while until Crowley spoke again. "I don't know." He said decisively.

"What?" I asked, turning finally to look at him.

"You're right, my actions could be construed as those of a father figure, or some sort of family in general." He explained, turning to look at me. "But that's the way of magic. To create a new, more powerful witch, I had to destroy something in myself that could be considered quite evil. And as for your status of being Hell-bound or blessed," he paused to gather his words. "It depends on what you do, and what you have done. Have you ever purposefully killed another with your magic? Directly?"

"No." I didn't even know that those things, the bags Rowena invented to kill demons, would completely do. And when doing things for the Men of Letters…

They were very adamant on me using actual weapons on Hunts. My magic just went in to theorizing and helping create more effective ways of killing.

"Did you ever cast with a purposefully malicious intent?"

"No."

"Have you ever taken the life of an innocent?"

"Those vampires…" Crowley shook his head.

"Push past that. Did you?"

"Not that I know of." I said.

"Have you ever used your powers to alter the natural course of life?"

"What about healing?"

"Doesn't count. I mean necromancy, life conversions, or anything involving another's soul."

"What about angelic grace?"

"Angelic grace isn't a soul."

"Then no." I thought on that more. "But… Don't angels do that too? I know Castiel has brought Sam and Dean back from death a few times, as well as others. Can't angels change the natural course of life?"

"Angels get their power directly from God." Crowley pointed out. "Whereas we do not, at least most of us don't." He thought for a second. "However, with your answer still remaining no, I do believe I can move on to the next question. Have you sworn your allegiance to a specific demonic entity in which you gain your power from?"

"No."

"Then I doubt you're going to Hell when you die." He determined. "Using your magic with a purposefully malicious intent, and succeeding in doing so, will almost guarantee you a spot in hell."

"What about that demon?"

"You stabbed him with an angel blade." Crowley reminded me. "You haven't crossed that line yet, in terms of your magic. Not fully. Not unless it was in the name of defending yourself, I believe, and even then you I don't think you've really murdered anyone."

"I think I might one day." I said quietly. "I… I hate what they did, what they're doing. They're going to decimate everyone and everything. They're going to cleanse the world, as they put it. They're just…" I shook my head. "I hate what they made me do, and how they tricked me in to it. And I think that… I think I might kill them. I think I might burn it all to the ground."

"Don't do it." Crowley's response was quick, and surprising. I didn't think that he would be the one to say no on killing. "Don't cross that line."

"Why not?"

"Because you don't have to." He said. "Being a witch… It doesn't mean you have to go to Hell. It doesn't mean you're cursed or damned. It doesn't mean you can only be one person, and only have one way to go." I stopped my work in the exercise to think, and after a little bit took Crowley's hand without question when he offered it to help me up. As he helped me rise, we were transported back in the room he was letting me stay in. I watched him for a second, not certain as to what to say to that. "Just food for thought." He commented, looking around at the mess of files and notes that I had turned the room in to. "You should get some rest. And whenever you are ready to look at the files on myself and their plans for my kind, feel free to." He looked over at the files in question, a different look crossing his face. "Just allow me to answer any questions that arise from it." I looked at him, curious and confused.

"Do you know what's in it?" I asked.

"It's my life in one." He replied. "I'm quite certain I have an inkling."

"Alright, then." I agreed, looking over him. There was something odd about him, something that I wasn't catching. Maybe it was just in how he was acting and what he was saying, but something else…

No. It had to be the weirdly nice talk, combined with my lack of sleep for I don't even know how long.

"Thanks." I said, uncertain as to what else to say. "I… I'll let you know when I have those questions."

"Good." With that, he left the room to attend to whatever he normally attended to in Hell, whereas I started to organize the notes that cluttered the bed and the desk. From there, I just… Kind of crashed out on the bed, letting my swirling thoughts, for once, lead me in to sleep.


	39. Taking Control

I had gone through a lot of information in my time with Crowley. I finally opened the file on Ketch, and… and I actually was sick then. Detailed accounts of everything he'd done, including every innocent person he'd murdered.

I reached the Drive File, too. It was a copy of everything T.J. had tried to leave me, including the flash drive itself. I didn't want to look at what the Men of Letters had to say about T.J., the real T.J., and what he'd tried to do. I wanted to read it for myself.

There were a lot of letters, which surprised me. I never took him for the sentimental letters type of guy. He told me the necromancer was real, they'd put him on that assignment to try and train Greg to be a warlock. Since T.J. had had such success with working with me, they figured he would be the best person to get to create a new me.

Greg ended up dying. T.J. wished he hadn't, but the whole idea of creating a new version of me that could replace me and work for the Men of Letters unquestionably was stupid to him, so he wasn't too surprised to see it fail.

He talked about the first mission we'd gone on together, how he'd been so terrified. He wasn't a Hunter. That was a cover story. He hadn't ever done field work before, not until then. He'd been truly terrified to see all of that.

 _Thank you for not abandoning me. Thank you for not refusing to work with me after I showed myself to be a completely incompetent Hunter._

It hurt, reading everything. It hurt to read the detailed accounts from people that I'd trusted, people that I thought I could believe in, betraying me every step of the way. Reading the beginning of it, from T.J.'s perspective…

He hated me.

When he first started, he hated me, and hated everything I was. His family… Well, I guess there was a reason he never really talked about them. They were killed by witches. He… He wanted me dead. There were a lot of times that he wanted to kill me, while we were working together. A lot of times he requested to be allowed to stick a bullet between my eyes.

Ketch had actually congratulated him for this, told him that his spirit was admirable. "It's amazing, getting to work with someone who understands it. He understands how difficult it is to worth with someone…" In the recording, he pretended to puke for a moment. "So vile. So impure and cruel and something that needs to be wiped off the face of the earth. He understands the sacrifices that need to be made in the name of the greater good, in the name of the Code." He smiled at that. "With Ketch's guidance, I know I can make it through this assignment till the end." Another smile, looking straight in to the camera. "And when it ends, I know I'll be able to pull the trigger with pride, just like my parents would've wanted me to."

His recordings and notes started changing after that assignment together. "She's just… She's open. She doesn't care. I don't know if she suspects or not, but… She doesn't seem to mind. I think she's just…" He looked conflicted as he spoke. "I think she's lonely. I think she's been alone for a long time, and had to give up a lot more than we originally thought. I think…" He didn't look at the camera. He just thought for a moment. "I think she's more useful than just a means to an end." He finally said, sounding as diplomatic as possible. "I think that there are more options with this witch than we realize."

From there, his true thoughts and feelings were in the drive files. Most of the recordings he sent the Men of Letters from there on were very informative, but not emotional. He kept those on the drive.

"I can't believe it." He muttered, shaking his head. "I just… I can't. All my life, with the Men of Letters, I was brought to believe that these creatures, these things. I was brought to believe that all they did was kill, all they could accomplish was killing and death and hatred. But this one… This witch…" He pursed his lips, looking right at the camera. "Kylie. She has a name, and it's Kylie. It's about bloody time I started calling her that. Her name is Kylie and she… She's not bad. She's not evil. I've never once seen her use her powers to kill. She just… She doesn't seem to want to. She held me up against a wall, she defended us, but other than that… I don't know." He rested his head in his hands. "I don't know anymore. And it bothers me like all hell. Is this… Is this what I'm supposed to be doing? Is this who I'm supposed to be now? I have so many questions about what I've been told versus what I've actually seen. I… I watched her, in the park today. I watched her take time to craft a toy for her… Her hellhound. I watched Kylie take the time and care to create something for her dog. It was astounding." His hands came up in an exasperated way, but his eyes showed amazement. "She took time, she thought out what she was doing, and as she did she talked with me and afterwards handed me this," he held his hands out for a size reference. "This log, that was huge. But she made it throwable for me, made me able to see Karma, and she… She made me her friend. She made me a part of her life and her family, in her own way. I don't know if she had anybody else, but… But she wanted me to be someone, to her. She wanted me there. She's consistently wanted me there."

"Kylie," one of the other recordings on the drive, not long before… Before he was gone. "I'm sorry. I want to start out with that. I'm so, so sorry. I hope you understand that. I hope you know that I didn't… I didn't know. I didn't know things would happen this way. I didn't know…" He shook his head. "No. No that's a lie and you deserve the truth. I knew. I knew what their endgame was the whole time, Kylie, and for that I know I cannot be forgiven. All I can do is apologize. I know that can't even come to close enough in terms of earning your forgiveness, but at this point it's all I can do.

What I didn't know was what would happen in between. I didn't know I would see you as my closest friend, and I want you to know that I do. You're the greatest and most honest friend I've ever had. You've shown me… So much. In the months I've known you I've learned more than I ever did in my years under the Men of Letters. You taught me how to think for myself. You taught me how to question what I know, how to stop following so blindly and make my own choices in what I believe. So… So I believe in you." He looked firm in his admission. "I believe in a world of balance, the same world you believed in. Not one that's supposed to be perfect and pure, but one that works. One that has a yin and a yang." It was odd, hearing words so similar to Crowley's come from a recording of my best friend. "A light and a darkness. A human and a… and another human." He finally stated. "Just one with extra perks."

I teared up a bit at that, and had to take time before I moved on to other things. He was right, his actions could be so easily considered unforgiveable, but at the same time… He changed. He chose to change, and chose to at the very least try to protect me.

In the end, he tried to change. In the end, he stopped wanting me dead. He saw me as a friend.

And for that, I could forgive him. For that, I could look upon the memories I had of my best friend, and still smile.

But finally, it came time for me to look at the demon files; to look at Crowley's file.

When I read through them all, I just… I was done crying. I was done feeling anything but anger. No. This absolutely couldn't true. Nothing that I was reading could be true.

I did my best to reign in my emotions, remembering what I'd promised. I would give Crowley the benefit of the doubt. I would talk with him. I would ask him my questions, and do my best to trust him.

I walked to my door, taking a few calm breaths. "Crowley," I practiced, holding up the files for emphasis. "I want to ask you why I just read that you have agreements in place with Hess, and why they seem to think that you have Lucifer not locked up in a cage, but in your own private room." I nodded, calming my voice down a little more. "Crowley," I muttered again. "I just finished these files, and I definitely have questions from them that concern me." I nodded again. That sounded a lot better. "Crowley," I opened the door, and there was Crowley in the doorway. "Oh, good. I have some questions for you." I stopped though, when I actually looked at him. He was… pained. Stiff. And there was this spell…

"Crowley's busy helping me right now." A voice behind him said. I froze, every single atom of my being terrified to the core. "We just came to get you so we could all talk about this together."

"Run." He fought to get the word out, reaching forwards jerkily to grab my arm. He stepped aside, pulling me out the door, and behind him I saw my worst nightmare. The body may be different, but the voice, and the power emanating from it…

It was Lucifer.

"No." I shook my head, my voice betraying me easily. This wasn't happening. Not this. Not after everything else.

No.

Not this.

"Oh yeah, baby." Lucifer confirmed, motioning to his body. "You haven't seen this vessel before. What do you think? It's the original, but personally… I like it better than your boyfriend's old sack."

"Fuck off." I spat, quite literally, with a sad but still effective glob of spit landing about a foot away from him. "What do you want?"

"I want to teach you guys a few lessons." He replied. "In front of everybody. I want them to know who's really in charge." I looked over at Crowley, terrified.

"I'm sorry." He croaked out. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucifer wave a hand in front of his face. In turn, Crowley's other hand came up to slap me.

"I've got complete control over him." Lucifer replied. I focused on the spell I could feel. It was… It was intensive. It was insane. It was molecular. Who in the hell had been able to do this, and HOW?

This wasn't something I could break or change. The spell was wearing away as time went on, and fast.

But not fast enough. For now, I couldn't do anything. If I used any sort of magic on Lucifer, there was a good chance it would rebound on to Crowley.

I was completely screwed.

I walked with them to Crowley's throne room, dropping the files I had as we went. No use in keeping things I didn't need anymore. I had all the answers in front of me.

When we got to Crowley's throne room, the first thing Lucifer did was have Crowley throw me across the space. I did my best to land on my feet, skidding a few feet before I stopped. I pushed my arms out automatically, pressing the demons nearest to me away. Crowley, in turn, found himself kicked in to the room forcibly by Lucifer.

"Gather round, everyone!" Lucifer crowed. "You're going to see what true power is like around here!" I hurried to Crowley's side, helping pick him up off the floor.

"Run." He repeated.

"There's nowhere I can go that I won't be found." I reminded him.

"Go now." He repeated, pressing a coin in to my hand. I felt the spell on it. It would take me out of here, I just had to activate it. I could name a city, or a person, and I'd be out of here.

"Quit your babbling, you two." I turned back to look at Lucifer, and watched as he flicked his wrist to the side. I felt myself flung backwards, where I'd originally been. I crossed my arms in front of me, rolling when I hit to try and alleviate the damage. I rolled in to the wall, hitting my head hard, but I was pretty fine otherwise. Nothing broken yet.

Yet was the key word, when it came to Lucifer.

"Dad, it feels good to stretch my muscles again!" He cheered, rolling his arms back lazily. I got up slowly, glaring over at Lucifer. He rolled his eyes at me. "Oh lie back, watch the show!" He encouraged, motioning a hand to me. I fell back to the floor, my arms and legs buckling without my volition.

"I hate you." I hissed, looking over at Lucifer. "I hope the Winchesters kill you slowly."

"Aw, you're stealing my plans!" He pouted, looking over at me. "I'd call you a little shit, but I think your hair is already doing that for me." I grunted, still working to get up as Lucifer turned his attention to Crowley again. "But you know, I think that this is much better therapy than any conversation I ever had with Dad!" He laughed, and as Crowley got up as well he smiled widely. "Eight ball, corner pocket!" He crowed. Crowley went flying in to a column, hitting harder than I had over here.

"Stop!" I shouted, acting on instinct. I cast a hand out at Lucifer, flames flying from my fingertips. Lucifer just stood in them, laughing.

"Oh, I could do this all day with you two!" He cheered, looking back and forth at the two of us. "And I think I will continue this session later with you, Kylie. But since I'm King, et cetera, et cetera," he looked between the two of us again before lifting one hand up. Crowley rose with the hand, levitating above the ground and looking as though he was choking. "I'll wrap it up."

"Run!" Crowley forced the word out again, much louder this time. I watched as he was lowered to the ground, Lucifer's hand still outstretched slightly. He flicked his wrist, an angel blade falling neatly in to his own hands. He pointed it at Crowley, and I watched in horror as he walked towards the blade. "RUN!"

"Rowena." I whispered, tightening my hand around the coin.

"NO!" Lucifer screeched, casting a hand out at me. He was too late, thankfully. The spell kicked in, and before he could get a hold on me I was gone.

I re-appeared on the floor of a very nice, very lavish… was this a mansion? I took a second to look around, trying to figure out where I was. It definitely looked like a mansion, or at the very least what I imagined a mansion to look like from the inside.

Nice digs. Go Rowena.

"EXCUSE ME!" A man shouted. I took a moment to look behind me, seeing the staircase behind me. The higher I looked up, the easier it was to see a gentleman I didn't quite know at the top of the stairs. "WHO IN THE HELL ARE YOU?"

"Hi." I started, pursing my lips. I took a second to look down at myself. Still looking… well… homeless as shit; and standing in a mansion. "Umm… Sorry to drop in, your… Um… your door was unlocked?" I tried. He didn't seem to be buying it. I stood up fully, letting out a little sigh. "Thought I saw my cat run in here?" I tried. Still no good response. "Yeah, you're not buying this, are you?"

"I'm going to call the police!" He shouted. "And I swear," I shook my head at this point, kind of done hearing him speak.

"Yeah, no." I decided. "Too busy." I waved a hand at him, looking around the place. In an instant, he was frozen where he stood, still looking at me angrily and… Pointing? Really? He was doing the angry rich-guy-pointy thing?

I swear, just a little bit more money and you start doing an entitled, rude point.

"ROWENA!" I shouted, deciding to say screw it. I wandered up the stairs and past the guy, still shouting for her. "ROWENA! YOU HAVE A VISITOR!" Still no answer. I stood in the middle of a long hallway on the second floor, seeing the amount of rooms there were. I took a deep breath, annoyed as hell. "ROWENA IT'S ME, DAMMIT! IT'S KYLIE. COME OUT OR I'M…" I looked around. "I'M TORCHING THE PLACE!" I decided. It was a nice place. It had to be important to her. She liked physical things.

She walked out from a room a few minutes later, hands raised. "Alright, alright. No need to get snippy." She chided, glaring at me. After a second though, she looked me up and down. "What happened to you?"

"Bad shit." I said, letting out a deep breath. "A lot of bad shit." Rowena took a few more moments to inspect me before letting out a sigh of her own. "Fine." She said. "Come downstairs to the parlor. I'll make you some tea and you can tell me what's going on." I nodded, following her down the stairs quietly. I took a seat in a chair she pointed out to me, and waited quietly for her to come back in with cups of tea. She wasn't trying to scour my mind this time, like she usually did. This time, though, she didn't. She didn't make a single attempt.

She sat down across from me, handing me a glass. I took it quietly, watching her. She was… She was acting normal. She wasn't doing anything that… that we could do.

"You're not using magic." I commented. She shrugged.

"I do for little things, like keeping the house neat and the flowers in bloom." She answered, smiling a little. "Keeping Charles' laundry the way he likes it. But for the most part," she shook her head. "No. That life is behind me now. I can retire to wealth and simplicity and never have to worry about any of that ever again." She raised an eyebrow at me, sipping her tea. "But with you here, I have a feeling that you will try to change that."

"Lucifer is back." I started, and she stopped sipping immediately. She closed her eyes, turning to look away from me.

"Say that again, dearie." She muttered, her voice calm, yet firm. I looked at her incredulously, unable to believe her reaction.

"Didn't you hear me?" I asked.

"I heard you." She stated. "However, I refuse to believe that I heard you correctly, because if I did then you said the bloody Devil is back and walking." She looked at me this time, waiting to hear me change what I said. When I didn't, she set down her cup. "He's back." She said, her voice much quieter.

"Yeah." I nodded. "He is."

"How?"

"I…" I could tell her. I could tell her that Crowley had changed her spell, tell her that her son had done this; I could tell her the truth.

Or I could lie, and say I didn't know. I could lie and say that it didn't matter, could decide to not tell her about how it had happened, I could just tell her nothing. I could be completely quiet about it, and let bygones be bygones, just this once.

"I don't know." I finally said. She didn't look like she believed me, but she let me go on anyways. "But he's back. I was hiding in Hell with Crowley," this time, she interrupted me.

"Why were you hiding in Hell?" She asked. I rested my head in my hands.

"That's the other problem, the reason I look like," I motioned to myself. "This."

And so I told her everything, from the beginning. I told her about the Men of Letters and their plan, told her about what led me to hide in Hell… The only thing I left out was what her son had done.

He was probably dead, now. He deserved a little dignity.

Once I was done, she didn't say anything. Not at first. She just sipped her tea quietly, letting it all soak in. When she finally spoke, she was blunt. "It sounds like you're as good as dead, sweetie." She commented. I didn't know what else to do, so I just nodded. She took another sip of her tea, watching me. "So what're you going to do about it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're a fighter, Kylie." She stated. "A scrapper. You don't give up. You didn't when your ideas of the world were changed with the introduction of the Supernatural. You didn't when I, admittedly, tried to kill you with Castiel. You didn't when Lucifer tried to kill you the first time, and Amara was looming over all of us. You didn't afterwards, when you were seeking purpose and understanding in your new identity." She took another sip before setting her cup down. "There are more than likely other instances I don't know about, but a pattern is a pattern. You fight to hold on, fight to live, fight to fight and to survive." She leaned forwards slightly, leaning her forearms lightly on the table. "So what are you going to do about all of this?"

"I don't think there's anything I can do." I admitted. "I think… I think both instances are like… like a sickness; a cancer. They spread and spread without you seeing it there, and how bad it is, until it's just… It's too late. The only way to catch it early is if it makes mistakes, or you're lucky, and…" I shook my head. "I think it's just too late Rowena. I think the world is either going to end, or the Men of Letters are about to be running it. Either way, I'm finished. You're finished." I cocked my head to the side, confused suddenly. "Why aren't you worried?"

"Because I think you're being irrational." She replied. "I think that you became scared and hurt and betrayed very, very quickly, so you automatically reverted back to what you were used to doing your whole life – running and hiding and fighting and not asking for a lot of help, but wishing it was there anyways. You're a fighter, Kylie, but you're also a runner, and you fight to run as far and fast as you can." She sounded almost as though she… she understood the feelings she was describing.

"Getting away from people trying to kill me isn't irrational."

"No, but you're not just trying to get away. You want to stay hidden." I didn't respond that time. I didn't know exactly what to say. Granted, hiding was easier. It was what I'd done for a large part of my life. "You know what I think you should do?" She asked.

"What?"

"I think you should stop hiding." She said. "You did, for a little bit when working with the Men of Letters. But you still hid behind them, behind their rules and their missions and their definition of right and wrong. You chose to follow, in your own way, and that was easier." She pursed her lips a little. "Hiding in masses, and following them, is always easier. You feel safer in it, safer when you have another telling you it will be alright and that they will protect you. But that isn't always what a person needs. They need to lead, too. You need to lead, in this case lead yourself." I took a moment to listen to what she was saying, doing my best to understand it.

In all honesty, she had a point. For a vast majority of my life since the night it all began, all I'd done was hide. I hid from demons, I hid from Crowley, I hid from angels, I hid from Hunting, I hid from Lucifer, I hid from the Winchesters, I hid from Amara, I hid from Castiel, I hid from the Men of Letters, I hid from… From…

From everyone and everything.

All my life, all I did was run and hide.

Like I was doing right now.

I nodded, understanding her fully. "Good. Now, you have two options. You may remain here, if you wish, and remain hidden with me until Lucifer comes to kill the both of us." We both knew he was coming, one way or another. We were powerful. We could slam him back in. We weren't people he would want left alive. "Or, you can go and you can do what you also always do, which is fight. Except this time, the fight won't just be to hang on for life, or to prove something to a world that has tried numerous times to beat you in to submission. This time, you will be fighting for yourself; for your freedom, your hope, your safety. Not the world's, not anybody else's. If you chose to fight, it needs to be for you." She reached across the table to touch me for the first time since I'd been here, and grasp my hand. "This cannot be for anybody else but yourself. Do you understand that?" I nodded, and she withdrew. "Good. So what do you want to do?"

I took a deep breath, making my choice. "I want to fight." I said, letting the air out. "And I want to win." She smiled, nodding at me.

"Then that's what you'll do." She agreed. I smiled back. It felt good, to make this choice. It felt good to put my own life back in my own hands. I was going to take control, and one way or another, I wasn't going to let anyone take that away from me. I wasn't going to hand it over anymore, either. I was just…

I was done hiding.

"Come on, let's get you better dressed." She decided, standing up and motioning for me to do the same. This time I was confused again, uncertain of what clothing had to do with me fighting. "What, you think you're going off to battle looking like that?"

"Why does it matter what I look like?" I asked. "There's a very likely scenario where I end up dead."

"Yes, well, better to leave a pretty corpse than an ugly one. I hate to perpetuate the warty witch stereotype." She took a glance at my hair again, grimacing. "And sweetheart…" she looked like the words she was about to say were sour in her mouth. "It looks like you colored your hair with the excrement of a cow."

My face flattened out at that remark, the insult clearly showing on my face. "I was in a rush." I muttered.

"Yes, and while you were with my son you couldn't have one or two of his droogs help fix your hair?" She asked. I didn't bother responding, just got up and followed her. "Trust me, dearie. This will help. And if you're that certain you'll soon be dead, then why not take one day to bring back who you want to be?"

She walked out of the room, not even turning back to see if I was following. After a few seconds, I decided to go with her. "What about you?" I asked, rushing after her. "What about your safety? What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to do exactly what I have left to do." She replied, walking to where Charles still remained frozen on the stairs. She reached in to his inner jacket pocket to withdraw his wallet, taking a look at what was inside before nodding. She reached in to the second pocket, pulling out a pair of keys.

"Which is?"

"I'm going to stand my ground where I am." She decided, tossing me the car keys. I acted on instinct, raising a hand to stop them in mid-air before bringing them directly to my palm. "And accept the fate that comes to me."

"That's not at all what you usually do." I pointed out as she came down the stairs with me. "You do the same thing I do. You run. You get away. You escape."

"You're right." She commented, walking with me out the front door. She pointed a car out to me, a 1969 silver Dodge Charger. I whistled, taking a good, long look at the car. This was something that Art would've absolutely fawned over. "This isn't what I do." She nudged for me to unlock the car, and I did, uncertain of what else to do about it.

"Then why do it?" I tossed the keys back to her, not feeling as though I should be driving this car at all. She caught them with ease, walking past me to hop in the driver's side and take a seat. She smiled a little bit, giving it a few revs.

"Charles has a love for fast cars." She stated instead, offering me a small smile. I sat down in the passenger seat, taking a look at all of it.

"Why are you stalling?" I asked. She started driving, giving it a little more speed than what was probably necessary as she did. "Rowena, why aren't you running too? Or even fighting?"

"Do you know how old I am?" She asked. "It's a rude question to ask a woman in general, I know, but did Fergus…" She stopped on his name, and I saw something change in her eyes for just a second. "Did my son tell you?"

"No." I shook my head. "He didn't."

"I'm over four thousand years old." She stated. "I have been alive for the century to turn over again, and again, and again, and do you know what I have learned from all of that?"

"What?"

"I've learned that I loathe this existence." She kept her eyes on the road, driving as quickly as she could. "I have watched everybody I could have cared about die, and learned that caring was pointless in an existence as long as mine has been. I have learned that the only reason I have stayed alive this long was because I clung to living and power and existence like a soaking rat clings to fabric. I have learned…" She sighed. "I have learned that I am tired, Kylie. I am tired of this existence, and tired of being alive this long. My time is coming to an end, I've seen it." She took a second to glance over at me. "A long time ago, I tinkered with the power to see the future, to see my own. And in it, I saw what would bring my death." She laughed a little, a laugh that had no meaning. "I saw my death three thousand years ago, or more specifically the singular choice that would lead to the beginning of my downfall. Do you know what I saw in that vision, Kylie?"

"No."

"I saw you." She stated. "Looking just as you are now, standing in that hallway and looking around for me. I did not recognize you when I first met you, because thousands of years had gone by since I saw it and you looked different, when we first met. More hopeful. More youthful. You continued to look different. But now…" She raised an eyebrow. "Now you look hardened. You look stronger than I've ever seen you. You wanted to run, but we both knew you wouldn't, not really. You look pained, older, but… But you look like a fine young woman." She let out a small breath with the admittance. "One that will be able to do what I never did."

"What do you mean?"

"You can be good." She said. "You can do good."

"Haven't you done good?" I pointed out. "Like… Helping cage Lucifer? Taking the Mark off of Dean? Trying to take down Amara? Don't those count as good?"

"I think we both know that those were to preserve myself versus those around me." She replied, glancing over at me. She drove fast, and in no time we were at a… A salon? Yeah, a fairly nice hair salon.

She took me inside, not saying a word. Everyone in the building glared at me, not liking how I looked, but nobody really said a word. I was with Rowena, and they apparently knew her.

"Miss DeLancy!" The woman at the front table crowed, refusing to even look at me. "How are you? Is this a…" She finally took a glance at me. "Bad hair day?"

"No, Charlotte, it's perfectly fine." Rowena assured the woman. "This is my niece. Her parents are a… little different." She commented. "But we're here to give her a wonderful new hair experience, aren't we dearie?" She looked over expectantly at me. I nodded quickly, uncertain of what else to do.

"Wonderful, then. You know how we're always happy to help those in need find their inner goddess." The Charlotte woman looked at me, smiling politely. "What're you looking for, dear? What version of you is the most perfect?"

"Um…" I hadn't been in a salon in forever. I had literally given myself my last haircut, and the singular one before that had been from Sam and Dean. "I've been through a series of bad home-done dye jobs. Is there anything you guys can do to put it back the way it was?" I glanced over at Rowena, still not quite certain exactly WHY we were here instead of running, but willing to roll with it.

"Under normal circumstances, I'd turn you away and say it's in your best interests to let it grow out naturally. But since you're so close to miss DeLancy," she smiled at Rowena. "I think we can manage to pull something off."

"Thank you so much, Charlotte." Rowena crooned.

"And as for you, ma'am?"

"You know that style I've told you that I wanted to save for a special occasion?" She asked. Charlotte's face lit up brightly.

"Oh my gosh, congratulations!" She cheered, excited. I didn't understand what she meant, but I just went with it. A second later, a new woman carted me off to some chair and got to work, whereas Rowena took a seat in the chair beside me. I glanced over at her again, still more than a little confused.

"Rowena…" I looked around me, uncertain of whether to keep my voice down or not. Nobody seemed to be paying me any attention, which didn't necessarily make me feel any better. "Why are we here? Why aren't we, oh, I don't know, formulating a plan? Figuring things out? Doing something else that is productive and not… HERE?!" I motioned around me, sitting back more as a random salon woman came around to where I was.

"Let's get started with undoing all this mess, why don't we?" She stated, smiling brightly and normally. I glanced over at Rowena again, but she didn't answer, just chatted normally with a woman she seemed familiar with as my own salon person tried to speak with me. "Where are you from?"

"Michigan."

"What're you doing all the way out here?"

"Visiting my… Ah…" I fought to remember what Rowena had called me. Her niece. "My aunt DeLancy."

"Just a family visit or any special occasion?"

"Well… She is getting that special occasion hairdo." I evaded.

"Oh my gosh she is?!" My stylist (was that the right word? I didn't even know. I was still too confused to know) turned to Rowena, confirming with her own hair person, who nodded. "Yay! When's the big day?"

"Soon, actually." Rowena replied, her voice holding a hint of sorrow and… was that relief? The stylists didn't notice, though. They were too busy being gleeful. "Much sooner than I thought it would be."

"Yay!"

My stylist didn't probe any further in to my life, choosing instead to gossip with Rowena and the flurry of women that now surrounded her. I let them go with it, and chose to just think over everything and let it all sink in. If this was how Rowena wanted to spend her time before shit hit the fan, then fine. But I wasn't going to let that happen. I needed to formulate a plan, a way of attacking it all.

But I couldn't go everything at once. That would literally blew up in my face worse than when I was just starting out with magic and killing the furniture in the safehouse. I had to chose one problem, and work at it individually before I went on to the second. That was the only way I had a shot of being any sort of successful. But which one would I need to tackle first? Which one could I tackle first?

The British Men of Letters. As powerful as they were, there was one weakness that I could use; they were human. They were just people, just humans, and they… they had destroyed everything that had been good in my life. My friendships, my beliefs on good, my family…

Mrs. Tran…

They were going to be first. They had to be first, but I also needed to warn others. I needed word to get to Sam and Dean, and Mary too if I still could. I'd sent Eileen off to do just that, but I didn't have any guarantee that that had worked. Ketch had asked for a hellhound…

Whose to say he didn't get it, and hasn't been using it. That was another problem, the fact that Ketch had a hellhound. Hunters wouldn't be expecting a hellhound to come after them, it would be devastating and… just terrifying.

I had to get to Sam and Dean. I had to get to Mary and pull her out before it got bad. I had to at least let them know, in case they hit the kill list next.

I wondered what the Men of Letters said to them, to cover up my disappearance. Did I die on an assignment with T.J., completely obliterated, no bodies found? Am I out in meetings like Mick was supposed to be? Did I just… disappear again? Did a spell backfire on me finally? Did some creature put a bullet between my eyes?

I smirked for a second, acknowledging that none of that was true. The Men of Letters may know I'm alive, but they didn't know where I was. They didn't know what I could do, if Mick didn't spill my secrets. If all went right… I could take them down. I could get in and get it done.

I needed to warn the others first, but… I could do this. I could definitely do this, or at least die in a blaze of goddamn glory.

I sat in silence, letting the mindless chatter fade around me as I formulated a better plan, building it in my mind like one of Crowley's chess games. Evaluate your opponent's moves, what you know they're aware of and what you know they're not. Leave contingencies for the unforeseeable. Be smart. For a moment, I couldn't help but think back to when I was learning again, training and trying and failing but at least grasping a basic concept of the approach to it all. _It was about knowing the outcomes, preparing for multiple scenarios, and being able to think on the fly. It was all about control, about shifting the scales to my favor and keeping them that way._

 _It was about taking control and keeping it._

And by Chuck, it was about damn time I regained control over my own damn life.

An hour or two went by quickly, with me planning and thinking every minute of it. I had an idea, now. I had a plan. I just had to start working on it, and hope to move quick enough before anything…

Before anything worse could happen.

"Well," my stylist commented. "It wasn't easy, but if you'll take a look at yourself in the mirror now," she held up a mirror for me to look in to. "You'll see it'll take time, but this really looks good on you. I don't see why you ever dyed it in the first place!"

I took a second to actually look at it all, and couldn't believe what I saw. It was… It was me.

I didn't look like the kid who ran away from home, but I looked like the grown-up version of her. The crappy brown hair was gone, and in it's place was the original brown… The same color of my mom's. Back to the same dark waves, that matched my mother's. I looked…

I looked a little bit like my mom, now. A little older. A little smarter. A little more like her. I hadn't seen it before, but now that I actually looked at myself in the mirror, with everything reset…

I looked… Like me. It felt right, for the first time in a while, to look at myself in a mirror.

"I… ah…" I smiled for just a second longer before pushing the mirror aside. "Thank you."

"No worries! You look absolutely gorgeous!" The stylist crowed. I glanced over at Rowena, and saw that she looked, well… stunning. She knew fashion, she knew style, and she knew what she wanted. She liked looking like glamour and elegance, so that was what she'd done.

Rowena paid for the both of us, and walked out to her car quickly. I followed just as fast, taking a moment to look at her and acknowledge what she'd done.

I'd just told her that her days were more than likely numbered, and her response was to… Get her hair done? Why would she do that, do all of this, instead of run? Instead of prepare to fight?

Unless…

I waited until we were outside and in the car before I spoke. "You're not going to fight, are you?" I asked. She sat in the car, not quite looking over at me.

"No." She agreed. "No, I'm not."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm very, very tired." She replied. "Because at this point in my life, I am the only MacLeod left. I have no children left alive, no grandchildren. Any living descendants at this point are too far down the line for me to claim any direct familial relation to. I am…" She sighed. "I am all alone now, Kylie. I have nobody left but myself, and I think I'm tired of being alone. I think that I am just plain tired of being the only one here, the only one left, and… Just alone."

"So you're going to let Lucifer kill you?"

"I'm going to stand my ground where I am now." She stated. She hadn't had the car move yet, just sat there with the engine on. "And if I die, then I will accept it. But I am done with running, done with fighting as long as I have. You still have fight in you, but me…" She shook her head. "I have been alive for too long to have that kind of fight left within my spirit."

"But… Rowena…" I stopped when she turned to look at me, really look at me, and I remembered what she said. "Better to leave a pretty corpse than an ugly one."

"Precisely." She looked away from me then, facing forwards but still not making the car move. "If I'm going to die, sweetheart, then I'm going to die the only way I know how; in style."

"And what about me?"

"I don't think you're going to die." She said. "You fight too hard to cling to life, and to not fail those you care about. I have nobody besides myself that I could care about." She let out another small sigh before shaking her head. "But no matter. Come along, let's get you clothes before I outfit you with weaponry and send you on your way."

She refused to speak any more on the matter of her probably dying after that, instead focusing on my plans and what I would consider pointless conversation.

She set me up with a few different sets of clothes, some toiletries, and a small bag to carry it all in. I couldn't go anywhere else that I had clothes stashed at this point, and the options to change out of my, admittedly ill-fitting runaway choices, were options that I actually kind of enjoyed having.

Our last stop before heading back was an apothecary shop. There, Rowena and I picked out a very nice hoard of herbs and spell ingredients that we both would need. Me for fighting, her for making a last stand.

"So what if you make it out?" I asked her finally. "What if you don't die, if you beat Lucifer or he decides to not come after you?" She just raised an eyebrow at me not saying a word. She didn't have to. We both knew that Lucifer would come for her. "Fine. What if you make it out alive?" Another raised eyebrow, but no answers.

"One doesn't view their death lightly, Kylie." She finally answered. "I know that now my days are definitively numbered."

"You said… That you were viewing the choice that would lead to your death." I repeated, remembering how she explained it. "Whose choice leads to your death?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said the choice, not your choice." I explained. "So… Whose choice leads to it? Mine, or yours?" She didn't answer me, but I pressed anyways. "Whose choice Rowena?" Still no answer.

Once we had everything, we went back to the house. She didn't say another word on the matter, no matter how much I pressed and asked and tried to get an answer out of her. Once we got back, she still ignored me, and instead walked inside to get a bag for everything to go in to.

"Rowena!" I shouted, still trailing after her. She stopped then, turning to face me.

"Dearie," she said, her voice a deathly calm that matched the tightness of her pursed lips. "I would like you to unfreeze Charles soon, please, and to stop your matter of inquiry."

"Why should I?"

"Because I've been kind enough to help you." She stated. "And I think I deserve that same kindness in return."

That was it.

No threats. No promises of pain on my end. Just… Just a request.

She worked in silence, efficiently getting items packed up and put away. Ingredients were packaged individually, labelled, and stored neatly in a sewing box. Clothes and toiletries were put in a nice-enough looking backpack. After the majority of items were packed, she left the room for a moment to acquire something or other. I stayed behind, thinking of everything she had just done in a matter of hours and, more importantly, why. If my choice was the one that caused her death, and Lucifer would find her thanks to me, then why be kind to me? Why help me when I was just going to bring death to her door?

Then again, if it wasn't my choice, then was it hers to help me that damned her? If it was her choice, then she could change it, she could fight if she wanted to. But…

But she wasn't going to fight. She wasn't going to run. She wasn't going to do anything but stand her ground here, in this mansion, and accept her fate.

"It's about taking control." I muttered to myself. That was all any of us were scrambling to do. I was working to take control of my own life and what was happening. Rowena was at least going to take control of her death, and take it with dignity. Crowley had tried to take control of Hell. The Men of Letters were trying to control America. Lucifer wanted control over seeing his son, and in turn probably the world.

We were all trying to gain control, in one way or another.

She came back with a small wallet, a bracelet, and a pistol with multiple pre-loaded cartridges.

"For gas and food." She started, handing me the wallet and the keys to the charger. Before I could say anything, she continued. "For protection." She clasped the bracelet around my wrist, and I could feel a charm on it. It would keep me invisible, for now; untraceable even with magic. The only catch on it was that I couldn't use too much of my power, or it wouldn't matter. I'd be creating signals for anyone who wanted to find me to track, friend and foe alike. The spell would fade soon enough, but it would at least give me a head start. "And so you don't have to make a decision that I believe you will regret." She set the gun and cartridges on the table, looking at them for a moment. "It's a Desert Eagle, .50 AE." I looked over at her, confused as to when she learned about guns. "Charles' brother gave it to him as a gift for his birthday, but he can't stand to hold or shoot a gun. His brother, on the other hand, thinks Charles could use some heavier weaponry in his house. He won't notice it's missing."

She put the cartridges in the bag with my clothes, and I took a moment to stuff the wallet and keys in to my pocket. She didn't embellish on the choice she was talking about. I knew. Crowley had told me. When she was done putting everything away in a system she considered correct and proper, she handed it all to me. I stashed the gun in the back of my pants, double and triple checking to make sure the safety was on before I did. There wasn't much else to say or do after that.

"Thank you." I finally said, taking a breath. "And for what it's worth… I'm sorry." I didn't know what I was apologizing for, exactly. I'm sorry for your son's death. I'm sorry for being the harbinger of your death. I'm sorry for leading Lucifer to you. I'm sorry that you will die. I'm sorry for bringing the Men of Letters down on us. I'm sorry I can't do anything to protect you. I'm sorry for altering your memories. I just…

I just apologized.

Rowena nodded, seeming to somehow understand. "Don't worry about it dear." She tole me, patting me on the shoulder lightly. "Everything meets its end eventually."

I took my new things, and waved a hand at her husband as I walked to the door. I could just barely hear him start to talk again as I opened their front door, and made my way to the car. "If anything's missing, there'll be HELL to…" I smirked, know how his sentence would've ended if he hadn't just been unfrozen to find me missing.

"Hell to pay." I muttered, hopping in the car. I started it with ease, revving the engine a few times for good measure. "Yeah, there's hell to pay, alright. Just not to me."

I peeled out of their driveway and started making my way to where I knew the Compound was. There was hell to pay, and it was about damn time I started doling it out.

I just hoped Sam and Dean weren't dead just yet; that Mary hadn't been broken by them yet. If they were…

I was taking control, one way or another. It was just a question of what I chose to do as I dealt the punishment to those who deserved it.


	40. Contact

I stopped at a payphone along the way. I had to take a risk, at this point. I had to try. I called Castiel's phone first. It rung twice, and went straight to voice mail. "You have reached my voice mail, so try and make your voice… a mail." A beep, and I reached in my pocket. I still had that rock. That was the one thing, through all of this, that I had kept on me. It was as warm as his hand was when I held it.

"Cas, it's me, Kylie." I let out a small breath. "I know you're alive, and I'm insanely grateful for that. But the people I was running with, the Men of Letters… They're bad news, Cas. They're awful and they're coming after us and if that wasn't bad enough, Lucifer is back in play, so…" I shook my head. "I know it's a lot of information, and I know I'm not explaining it well, but I don't have a lot of time. They're looking for me, all of them." I took a breath in this time, steadying my nerves. "But the long story short is that if you've got an eye on Kelly, you need to do something to protect her now before Lucifer comes, much less the Brits. I'm sorry I can't say more, I have to go. I love you." I hung up quickly, rooting around to put more money in and dial another number. Sam's. Sam would answer.

"Sam can't talk right now cause he's waxing... Like everything but leave message." Dean's voice, but Sam's voicemail. In the background, I could hear Sam shout. "Dean ! Dean what are you doing with my phone?!" Beep.

"Sam, I need you and Dean to run." I said. "The Men of Letters are bad news, really bad news, and Lucifer is back out in the world. I don't have time, I have to keep going. I'm going to call Dean and your mom. Watch out for your mom. She… She might not be herself. She might be really bad." I'd read on their plans for Mary if she wouldn't cooperate, and it only made me hate Bevell even more. "Get her out of there. Get on the phone with every Hunter you know and tell them that the Men of Letters are bad news, and that Lucifer is on the Earth. I'll call again when I can. I have to go." I hung up, and paid for another call. Dean's phone.

"This is Dean's other, other, other phone, so you must know what to do." Another beep. I left him almost the exact same message that I did for Sam, adding on again that I needed one of them to call me somehow or answer when I did call so I knew that they were alive. I hung up before I could worry anymore, steeling my nerves before I called Mary.

"Hello?" Her voice was calm as she answered, the first actual answer I'd gotten.

"Mary?!" I let out a sigh of relief. "Oh that GOD!"

"Kylie?"

"Yeah, it's me. I'm not dead or whatever the Men of Letters told you happened to me." I said. "I'm out, I'm about, I'm stateside even, and you need to get out of there yourself. They're bad news, Mary. They're really bad news and Lucifer is out and it's all a big mess right now but the important part is that you need to run. Don't take anything they gave you. Don't tell anyone you're leaving. Just RUN and find Sam and Dean. They're not answering their phones."

"Of course they're not answering." Mary replied, her voice just as calm as when she'd answered. "They're dead."

I almost dropped the phone. No. No, they couldn't be dead.

"What happened?"

"Ketch and I locked them and Lady Bevell in the Bunker." She said. "That was yesterday. They'll be dead by tomorrow."

"You…" I stopped, realizing what had happened. "They got to you. They did the mind thing on you."

"They freed me." She stated. "They made me better, made me uninhibited."

"They brainwashed you, Mary." I argued. "And I know the real you is in there somewhere."

"You'll see soon enough." She replied. "Thank you for letting us know you were alive and in the United States. I'm certain Ketch and Dr. Hess will love to hear that information."

"Mary, don't." I begged. "Don't do this."

"See you soon, Kylie!" She sounded… like her voice was happy, but a hollow and dead sort of happy as she hung up, leaving me staring at a dial tone. I acted quickly, pouring as much money as I could in to calling every single number I had for Sam or Dean.

"This is Sam, leave a voicemail." _**Beep**_.

"Leave your name, number, and nightmare at the tone." _**Beep**_.

"This is my voice mail, so make your voice… a mail." _**Beep**_.

"This is Sam's other phone, leave a message." _**Beep**_.

"This is Dean, you know what to do." _**Beep**_.

"This is Claire! Leave a message!" _**Beep**_.

"This is my voice mail, so make your voice… a mail." _**Beep**_.

"Detective Smith, leave your name, number, and reason for calling." _**Beep**_.

"This is Dean's other phone. Leave a message." _**Beep**_.

"This is my voice mail, so make your voice… a mail." _**Beep**_.

Eventually I couldn't call anymore. I was getting sick of hearing nothing but beeps and I had to keep going, but I also had to weigh my options. I didn't have a key to the Bunker anymore. I couldn't teleport in. The spells to keep people like me out… They'd kill me if I made one wrong move at cracking them. I went through every possible scenario that I could think of to try and save them, and the truth remained the same.

It was a good day's drive to Sam and Dean, not including stops for gas or getting pulled over for speeding. Even if I got there, there was no guarantee I could get in. I hadn't studied the defense mechanisms enough to even stand a chance at breaking them, and even then Mary had said that they'd sealed the doors. That meant shutting off the main life support systems. With three of them…

Dead tomorrow was if they killed Bevell off the bat to conserve air. Dead tomorrow was if they hadn't been doing anything to try and get out.

Dead tomorrow wasn't something I could beat.

I roared with rage, slamming the phone back in to its holster. This wasn't happening. I wasn't out for nothing. They couldn't win. This all wasn't happening. It was just… It was too much.

For a moment, I wanted to run again. I had money. I had ingredients. I had food. I could run. I could hide. I could never be found, if I didn't want to be.

But I couldn't do that. There was too much at stake. If I did that, then everyone would be dying for nothing. Crowley dead for nothing. Rowena dead for nothing. T.J. dead for nothing. Mrs. Tran, Mick, Mary, probably Eileen at this point, Sam and Dean…

Cas, eventually.

Everyone would be dead if I ran, and they would be dead for nothing. If I kept going, I could at least make their deaths count for something.

I gritted my teeth, hopping in the car. Nobody was answering. Nobody was coming. It was just… me.

I resumed my course towards the Compound, the engine roaring to life as I gritted my teeth. They knew I was alive. They knew I was in the US. They'd be looking for me, and expecting me to run.

The last thing they'd expect was for me to show up there.

The last thing they'd think was for me to attack them.

The last thing they were going to see were fire and flames and bullets reigned down on them. I was going to ensure it.

A few hours down the road I stopped at another payphone, and made one more call. Ketch. He answered before the first ring finished.

"Kylie, I presume. What a lovely surprise!" He cheered. "We missed you! Are you alright? You gave us quite a scare when you disappeared."

"Kiss my ass, Ketch." I gritted out.

"Ouch. That actually hurt."

"Stow the limey manners crap." I stated. "I know now. I know everything."

"Then you know that your days are numbered." He replied. "I like you, you had potential, so I'll be frank. No matter your potential, you're still a monster. That is all you will ever be. So find a nice way to live out your last days, or do us a favor and end them yourself. Less paperwork on our part." I stood there in silence for a moment, choosing exactly what I wanted to say. "Kylie?" He tried. "I hope I haven't hurt your feelings."

"Do you know why I called?" I finally asked, calming myself.

"I presumed it was because you were ready to surrender or because of some undeniable idiotic attempt to say hello." He answered.

"Because I'm not afraid." I said. "Of you. Of the Men of Letters. Of anything you all could do to me. I have nothing left, now. No Sam and Dean, no Castiel," better to protect him than to give him away. "No Crowley, no T.J., no Mrs. Tran, nobody. Do you know what that means?"

"Quite frankly I don't."

"It means I have nothing left to lose." I replied. I let that sit in his mind for a moment before I continued, my voice still the same level of calm as it was before. "I have nobody to hold me back and tell me not to do something. I have nothing left that you can take from me. All I have is my own will and determination and fight, and do you want to know what I've found from that?" I didn't even give him a chance to reply before I spoke again. "I've found that there isn't anything I can think of to stop me from destroying you and everything you care about, much less the organization you work for." He didn't say anything, and I smiled a little bit. "Watch your back, Ketch. You're going to burn. You and everything else."

I hung up, unable to fight the smile on my face. I knew he wouldn't tell anyone. He was too prideful to.

I smiled as I hopped back in the car.

Revenge was coming. I could feel it.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 **Hey everyone, WriKai here! So I've got a question for all of you. With the introduction of Bizarro World and alternate versions of some characters (Including the confirmation of Kevin making a re-appearance in Bizarro-Earth), would any of you like to see Bizarro Kylie and Kevin and Bobby and different things that played out in that universe? Message or comment or whatever with responses and such, I'd love some feedback on this idea and whether it'd be worth actually posting out. Thank you all for sticking with me!**

 **I'm sorry that updates used to be sporadic, life got kinda sorta hectic, but I've got it on a weekly schedule now that I think is definitely better, as well as future plans already in the works for continuing with the new season (Like the possible alt-univ. option). Hope everyone is still enjoying these!**


	41. The American Invasion

I stopped about five miles away from the compound, hiding the Charger in the same place I hid the motorcycle way back when. From there, I got to work. Clothes could stay in the car, and the pistol…

I considered it for a moment, and eventually shoved it in to the back of my jeans. I wanted to have at least one bullet to put between Ketch's eyes when I was done with him.

The gun was a Hunter's weapon, though, and I wasn't here as a Hunter. Every Hunter I really knew was either dead or hiding or… Or worse. I took a look at a clip, remembering who I was and why I was here. I wasn't a Hunter. I wasn't one of the Men of Letters.

I was walking in to that compound as a witch; as a force they'll never control. They tried to, but they failed. They couldn't get past the monster they expected me to be. And now…

Now they were gonna pay. Now they would really see what a monster looked like; a monster that could shoot fireballs as easily as they did bullets. These fucks… They killed Mick. They killed my best friend. They killed Eileen. They tried to kill me. They… They killed Sam and Dean. They destroyed Mary.

They were going down. No mercy. Not anymore.

I was done being good; being kind and merciful and thinking or believing that anything about me could be on the good guys. Crowley was dead. Lucifer was about to take over. Sam and Dean were dead. Mary was probably hunting me down as I thought.

But by God, I wasn't going to let these fuckers get away with it. I was going to chase them out of America myself if I had to.

And I was going to burn it all to the ground afterwards. I don't make threats, I make promises, and I was going to follow through on my promise to Ketch.

I got some ingredients prepped for a few miscellaneous spells, pulling out some spare plastic bags I'd gotten at a gas station for quick mixing. From there, they all went in to one of those drawstring plastic backpacks (dear God I loved cheap gas stations), along with multiple spare cartridges of ammo. I didn't plan on using them, but Rowena had given them to me for a reason. I trusted her.

Once I was ready, I made my way to the compound. When I was in range I focused hard, trying to get a hold on the wardings they had. I smiled when I realized that they hadn't been changed. There were two gunmen in front of me, on high alert and looking out for any intruders. I snuck up quietly on them, invisible and silent. They were armed with assault rifles, as was tradition for Men of Letters. I could take their bullets, but their guns were warded. They may not have known I was coming, but they didn't want to take any chances. They knew my tricks.

They just didn't know that I could get in. Mick had never told Ketch.

He hadn't gotten the chance to.

These two would be easy to take out, and from there I could go on and make my way through the entirety of the compound.

 _Using your magic to take a purposefully life, and succeeding in it, will almost guarantee you a spot in hell_. Crowley's voice, in the back of my mind. _You haven't crossed that line yet, not fully. Not unless it was in the name of defending yourself, and even then you didn't really kill anyone. Don't do it. Don't cross that line._

"Sorry, Crowley." I muttered, moving forwards. Sometimes, you had to cross a line like that to get things done, and in this case a bullet would gain more attention than a spell. All it would take was a flick of my wrist, my hand making the smallest squeezing motion, and these two guards wouldn't be a problem anymore. No noise. No problems. No nothing.

But still I hesitated. It was a line I had to cross, but I... I didn't quite exactly want to. My family would've wished I hadn't done it in Hunting, with killing a demon. Sam and Dean wouldn't have wanted me to when I started learning witchcraft. Crowley and Rowena, neither of them wanted me to do this.

But they weren't here. Mom and Dad, Art and Josiah, Sam and Dean, Rowena and Crowley… None of them were here anymore, and when I crossed all of those lines I did it for them. I could do it one more time, for Sam and Dean and T.J. and Mick.

More importantly, I could do it for me. I wanted revenge, I wanted my fucking life back, and by God I was going to get it.

I held my hand up, focusing on the two guards and their breathing, when every possible alarm in the compound starting going off behind them. I looked around, as did the guards that weren't aware of my presence yet.

I hadn't tripped up any alarms. I hadn't even entered yet.

"West entrance!" The orders came sharply over their walkie-talkies, courtesy of Dr. Hess. "Hunters at the west entrance! Fan out, cut them off!"

Hunters?

I stepped forwards to put a hand on either of the guards shoulders, and watched them slump to the ground, asleep. I had to hurry if I wanted to get to the other Hunters. I could help.

I started running then, bursting in through the south door and from there following the sound of pistol shots and machine fire. Nobody really stopped me, they were too busy on the enemy they knew about. As I got closer I started to hear voices. Some were shouting commands in a brisk, military-like fashion. Others were angry and righteous, determined to fight and to win.

I stopped once I heard a familiar voice, though, leading the Hunter's charge. When it hit me that I wasn't imagining things, I fucking sprinted closer. "Sam!" I shouted, not giving a damn about who may hear me. I kept moving closer to the shots, and kept shouting for Sam and Dean. They were here. They were alive.

They didn't die.

"SAM!" I shouted, rounding a corner. I could still hear his voice. Two Men of Letters guards turned to look at me in surprise. One kept his aim down a different hallway, whereas the other turned and started firing at me. "SHIT!" I moved back around the corner, taking a deep breath as I pressed my back up against the wall. Nothing had hit, these weren't witch-killing bullets or ones with witchbags in them. Piece of cake.

I felt around the corner, deciding that between shooting them and using magic, it would be easier to use magic. I stuck my hand back at them blindly, hopefully aiming for their feet as the feeling of heat waves sprung from my hands. There were screams, followed by two clean pistol shots. The screams stopped after that.

There was a moment of tense silence as I peeked around the corner. It was clear. They were in the other hallway. "SAM?!" I shouted, inching towards the second corner.

"Kylie?!" He asked, absolutely bewildered. I stopped at the corner, not looking around it just yet.

"If I peek around, I'm not gonna get shot, right?" I asked.

"Depends," an unfamiliar male voice asked. "Are you with the Brits?"

"Yeah, totally." I said sarcastically. "That's why I helped you guys out by lighting their asses on fire after they've been trying to find and kill me for the past month or so." I thought for a moment. "Actually, they've been trying to kill me for longer than that since they've been the one leaking my name out and putting a Supernatural hit on me."

"Yep, it's her." Sam affirmed. I rounded the corner, and saw the younger Winchester at the other end of the hallway. I let out a sigh of relief and sprinted over, almost tackling him with a hug.

"You're alive." I said, grasping him tightly. He pat me on the back before pulling away.

"I could say the same for you." He replied. "Where have you been? We all thought the Men of Letters got you."

"No, but believe me, they tried." I said. "I've been in, ah… Hell. With Crowley, trying to sort this mess out." I looked around, realizing that between the three hunters in front of me, someone was missing. Two someones, in fact. "Where's Dean?" I asked. "And where's… Where's Cas?" I was almost afraid of the answer.

"Dean's fine." Sam said. "Ish. He's with mom."

"Sam, you can't trust Mary." I said quickly. "You need to get a hold of Dean, NOW. Bevell, she," Sam nodded before I could continue.

"I know. We know. Dean's watching her and trying to break her out of it now." Sam explained. I let out a small sigh. Dean was alive and with Mary. Dean wasn't stupid, he could keep Mary under control.

"OK." I nodded as well. "And Cas? Is he still working with the angels on finding Kelly?" I may have still been pissed for that, but I wasn't going to not ask about him. I still… I still cared. And if he was still tracking Kelly, then Lucifer would find him too. Lucifer would rip him to shreds.

"Not exactly." Sam said, pursing his lips for a moment. I feared the absolute worst. "I'll tell you about it in a little bit. Right now, though, we need to finish this."

"Agreed." I said. "But there's more things you need to know too. It's important."

"After we finish this off." Sam repeated. I clenched my teeth slightly, but I understood. One task at a time.

"Alright." I agreed, pulling out the pistol. "For…" I paused, thinking of all the death these people had caused. Good people were dead. People that didn't deserve it. There were too many names to pick just one, at this point. Too many people I probably didn't even know about. I didn't know who I was fighting for at this point, save myself, but that didn't feel right.

"For those who couldn't be here." The woman behind Sam said, stepping forwards. She had brown hair, short, with flecks of grey intermixed. She almost looked like a mom. "Hi, my name is Jody Mills. I've heard a lot of good things about you."

"You're the one that took Claire in." I stated, remembering what I'd been told. "I… I tried to call her. Is she alright?" She nodded, smiling at me.

"Her phone broke while she was on a Hunt. She's fine." Jody took a minute to examine me, thinking. "You're the one that helped save her life." She said the sentence like a mix between a question and a fact. I nodded back, smiling a little as well.

"I've heard a lot of good things about you too." I said, offering a hand. She shook it. "For those who couldn't be here."

"For those who couldn't be here." The other Hunter repeated. "Name's Walt, by the way."

"Nice to meet you." I shook his hand as well.

"Come on," Sam ordered. "We have work to finish."

We blazed through the compound like an avenging angel. We couldn't be stopped. We couldn't be hurt. I made sure we all stayed healed and alive, helping to decapitate guards when needed. Fire to the legs worked quite well. Sam didn't want me killing them either, though. I think… I think that was a line he didn't want to see me cross either, even if he didn't know exactly what it was. However, I could easily sneak up behind them invisible and disarm them of any other weapons, which was useful in acquiring extra firepower on our part.

When we found her, Jody and I approached Hess together. I appeared by her shoulder, tapping it with a false smile. "Hi there, you miss me?"

"Crowley said you were dead." She stated, staring at me in shock. I smiled a little. My gamble had paid off. Ketch hadn't said a word.

"Yeah, and now he's gone too." I reacted quickly after that, punching her in the face. "That was for T.J. you bitch!" I shouted. She recoiled from the impact in to Jody, who gripped her arms from behind. Hess reacted just as quickly to that, though, elbowing her in the face. I ran to Jody first, healing her nose as Hess disappeared in to her office. I smirked at the door as Sam and Walt joined us.

"Locked?" Sam asked. Jody nodded, checking out her nose.

"I can get this." Walt offered. I held up a hand.

"One thing she doesn't know," I said, putting my hand on the door. I smiled. Still the exact same wardings as when I left. I disappeared and reappeared in to her office immediately. "Is that I can get in." I held up my pistol at her before she could run from her computer to her pistol. She looked at me, trying to gauge whether or not I was bluffing.

"You wouldn't shoot me." She stated. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"I just appeared in your damn office." I pointed out. "I can, and will, do what I came here to accomplish, you stuck up piece of shit." I took a step backwards, not taking my eyes off of her as I slammed the button for the door to open behind me. The others came in, guns up and ready as well.

"Nice work." Sam said. "Why didn't you shoot her?"

"I want to make sure a message is made." I replied. "I figured you'd want to help with that before she's dead." I took another step back, letting Sam take the lead. Hess glanced between myself and Sam before deciding to focus on the man.

"Listen, Dean," Hess started, and I shook my head at her. Stupid opening move.

"It's Sam." He corrected. "And you must be Hess, I trust. You're in charge of this whole operation?" He looked around for a second, smirking. "Or, uh, what's left of it?"

"Sam, Kylie," she said, looking around at us. "You might think it in your best interest to kill me, to end all of this here," Sam and I exchanged glances, shrugged, and nodded a little bit.

"Yeah, pretty much." I clarified.

"But," Hess continued. "Shooting me now, severing all ties with the British Men of Letters, at this particular moment," she shook her head. "That would be a grievous mistake."

"I doubt it." Sam argued. Hess took a few slow steps to the table near her, not standing behind it but beside it, grabbing a file off the top.

"There are reasons to reconsider." She said, tossing the file towards him. "Things that you don't know." I held up a hand before it reached the peak of its arc, bringing it over to Sam myself so he wouldn't have to look away.

"What are these?" He asked. Hess' next words made my stomach drop.

"Lucifer is back." Sam looked sharply up at her before turning his face to the file and looking at the documents inside. "Yes, Sam. All thanks to your good friend Crowley. Not that it did him much good." She smirked. "Crowley's dead."

Sam looked up in disbelief. "That was what I was going to tell you." I told him slowly, keeping my eyes on Hess. "I'll explain later, I promise."

"You knew?" Sam asked, glancing back towards me. I nodded. "How long?"

"Not long at all." I answered. "I watched Crowley die and I had to run again."

"And the Devil is out looking for his son," Hess added, her voice taking on a slight lilt. "Following in its mother's footsteps, tracking her and your friend," she stopped, pointing at me. "Your boyfriend, the angel." Cas was with Kelly? "If Lucifer gets his hands on that child, they'll be unstoppable. You can't face that alone." She turned her attention back to Sam. "You need us."

Her computer spoke up next, and I looked over at it. She must have been using it to contact her commanding officers. "Listen to her, boy." A male voice said. "Same for you, witch." I gritted my teeth, tempted to shoot the computer. Instead, though, I looked over at Sam. He paused for a moment, thinking. I could see the indecision on his face. I took a sideways step towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Sam," I said, glancing over at him. He was still staring at the computer. I wanted to tell him no, tell him that we didn't need their help and that we could figure this out on our own, like he and Dean tended to. I wanted to tell him that these people lied, that that was all they did, and that the second they had any leeway or freedom they'd turn around and screw us over. I wanted to tell him that they'd kill us the second we stopped being useful. I wanted to tell him that working with these British bastards was what got us in to this mess – what put us in this compound with so many other Hunters and not nearly enough of their people dead – in the first place. I wanted to tell him no, tell him to not take the deal.

But that wasn't my call. I wasn't the one in charge here, and these Hunters wouldn't follow me. They followed Sam. This was Sam's call. "It's your choice." I said, squeezing his arm lightly. Another few moments went by, and Sam had his answer.

"Pass." He said, turning his gun's aim to shoot the computer. The destruction of it was quite wonderful to see, in all honesty. Hess' face contorted in to one of anger at the realization that she had just lost everything.

"You bastard." She hissed, lunging for her gun. I held up a hand, holding her in place roughly against the wall behind her, with her gun just inches out of reach.

"No," I replied. "You and your whole organization are a bunch of bastards. You're going to stay out of America, for good. Do you hear me?"

"We'll be back." She replied, laughing at me. "And we'll be here to kill you, and the Winchesters, and your angel, and the whole lot of you shoddy Hunters."

"I doubt that." I replied, tilting my head to smile at her. It was a dead smile, one that I could see terrified her to the bone. I held up my other hand, palm up, and her unwarded gun floated in to it. "Any last words?" I asked, leveling the gun at her.

"I hope Lucifer absolutely destroys you." She replied. I shrugged, and shot her between the eyes.


	42. Family

We went through every inch of the compound, and I cast out my consciousness to scour it myself, but Ketch wasn't there. Ketch wasn't FUCKING THERE. We left, and I couldn't help but be angry as hell. Ketch was supposed to be here. Ketch was mine. I was gonna fucking destroy him.

But he wasn't here.

He wasn't…

I turned to Sam, panicking suddenly. "Where's Dean?"

"Back at Jody's with mom." Sam had explained what went down with their mom on their end as we went. It was… It was insane. But if they had her, then I could take the time to figure out a plan and try something that wouldn't absolutely destroy her mind.

"We need to go, NOW." I said. "Ketch isn't here."

"He's not here?" Sam's eyes widened when he realized the gravity of what I was talking about. "Let's go."

I followed behind him in my car, wanting to just teleport there but at the same time I hadn't been to Jody's before, I couldn't teleport.

We made good time getting there, but when we got to Jody's house… It was empty. No Dean. No Mary. No Lady Bevell. No bloodstains, even.

And no Impala. I looked over at Sam, concerned. There was only one place left for them to be. "The Bunker." I said.

"That's at least seven or eight hours."

"Not with me." I grabbed Sam's arm, focusing hard. I couldn't get us directly to the Bunker, but I could get us close. Someone had put a magic dampener on the inside of the place, and it was affecting the wardings. I could get us right outside the door.

Dean's impala was in front, as was another car that neither of us recognized. It had to have been Ketch's. "No." I muttered, stalking towards the door. It was unlocked, and opened with ease. "No. NO no no." Sam ran in front of me, and I followed, fearing the worst. We made our way through quietly, weapons drawn. We found one body under a white sheet. I checked it out, fearing the worst, while Sam kept watch. It was Lady Bevell. Her throat had been slit.

"Rest in peace, bitch." I muttered, lowering the cover over her. I shook my head at Sam, and motioned for us to keep moving. I followed his lead until we heard voices.

Good voices.

"I was trying to make things right. Just from a distance, because... being here with you was too hard. Seeing what I'd done to you and to Sam, I..." Mary's voice. Her normal voice. Sam and I sped up our pace. She was talking about someone and Sam. There was only one other person she could be talking about, much less to.

"Mom, what you did, the deal...everything that's happened since has made us who we are." Dean's voice. We sped up even more, still silent but almost running now. They could be alive. They could be fine. "And who we are? We kick ass. We save the world!"

"I'm scared." We heard Mary admit. We were almost with them, now; almost to the room we could hear their voices coming from. "What... What if he can't forgive me?"

Sam rounded the corner before I did, and stopped in his tracks. I followed suit, standing behind him as I saw…

Dean.

Dean and Mary.

And another white sheet on the ground, covering a body. I didn't bother to check. I had a feeling I knew who it was.

Sam walked in to the room first, his steps finally making noise. "Mom," Mary turned automatically, and I could see Dean's attention had been caught as well. Sam sounded… like he was about to cry.

I didn't think I'd ever heard that kind of tone in his voice before.

"You don't have to be scared of me." He assured her. In a second, he rushed towards Mary, wrapping his arms around her in an embrace. Dean limped over as well, and I could see a basic splint set up on his leg. I could fix that. I could do that for him. Dean clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder, smiling happily at his brother.

"Glad you're back, man." He commented. I hung back, deciding to not to intrude. This was a family moment for them. Mine…

I pushed that thought away. They were alive. That was what mattered. They were all alive.

"Kylie?" Sam broke away for a second, and I looked up in to his eyes. Everyone else was looking at me too. "What're you doing over there?"

"I… I… Umm…" Dean motioned for me to join them, looking at me as though I was an idiot. "I…"

"Get over here." Mary encouraged. "You're a part of this family too."

I paused for maybe a second before I joined them, holding back every tear I could. It felt… God, I can't even describe it. I… I'd thought that I wasn't their family anymore. I'd thought for so long that they didn't want me in their family because of… because of the witchy thing.

But here they were, arms outstretched and around me as tightly as any other family, when they knew everything. They knew what I could do. They knew what… knew who I was.

And I was a part of their family, to them.

I held on tight in that hug, and a thought hit me. This was the first time that… That they'd actually called me family. This was the first time in a long, long time.

Once we all pulled away, I took a second to wipe my eyes quietly. Nobody said anything about it. I wasn't quite the only one that had some tears. "So, what'd you do to your leg?" I asked, getting my voice under control as quickly as I could as I motioned to Dean's splint.

"Grenade launcher in one of the back rooms." He explained.

"You… You…" I shook my head. "Nope. Nope nope nope, I am drawing the line. Too much shit to deal with, so I am just gonna draw the line right there." I reached over to put my hand on his shoulder, and pushed just a little bit with my power. It was harder with the dampener up, but not so hard as to make it impossible.

In a matter of seconds, his leg was healed. I smiled, shrugging a little. "Sorry I wasn't here to help you with that sooner."

"Don't worry, we… We didn't think you would be around for it in the first place."

"Yeah, Sam told me." I nodded. "They told me the same thing for you guys, more or less." I looked around. "I'm gonna need to take down this dampener later, by the way. I don't like how it feels."

"Yeah, yeah, by all means." Sam encouraged. "Mind if we swap stories first? There's things we need to tell you, and I think… I think there are some things you need to tell us too."

"Yeah, I got you." I nodded. "You guys wanna sit down. I know I've got a long story, and I think you all do too."

So we sat around the BAMT, and talked about the end of the world and the mess that the Men of Letters created and Castiel being gone. So many good Hunters that could've been useful in this fight were gone. Lucifer was free and walking the Earth. Crowley was gone. And Cas…

Cas was with Kelly? Cas was… protecting Kelly? Helping her have the child? On one hand, I wanted to smile. He listened. He remembered. He cared. But at the same time, he was gone. Dean and Sam's plan wasn't a bad one, it would've worked. But why not let them go through with it?

I was worried, but I reached for the rock again. He was alive. I knew he was alive. And that was comforting.

"So…" Dean took a sip of his beer when it was all said and done. "Okay, let me just get this straight. We beat the Brits, we kicked their psycho, tea-swilling asses, and instead of popping champagne and heading to Vegas, we get Lucifer."

"And you're sure it's him?"

"Yeah." I shuddered a little. "He… You don't forget that energy when it's there. You don't forget how it feels to have it put to use against you. There's just… There's no mistaking him."

"That's his old vessel, too." Sam added. "The one he wore when all of this originally went down."

"How is that even possible?" Mary asked.

"It was a spell." I explained. "One that preserved his old vessel very, very well. Crowley did it."

"And now he's dead." Mary concluded. I nodded.

"More than likely. It…" I could still see everything. "I can't imagine a scenario where he made it out of there alive, and I've tried."

"Yeah, well, I'll believe he's gone when I see the body and burn it." Dean replied. I shook my head.

"Dean… He protected me, OK?" I pointed out.

"He shacked up with Hess and the rest of those damned assholes." He said.

"He didn't tell them I was there. He could've sold me out at any point and didn't."

"He still kept Lucifer on the board." Dean argued. "He made that choice on his own. He was just stupid enough to do that, and just smart enough to keep you alive."

"Putting that all aside," Sam tried. "Do we even need Crowley? We have you," he motioned to me. "And we have Rowena."

"She won't fight." I stated.

"What do you mean, she won't fight?" Dean asked.

"Where do you think I went after Lucifer made his escape?" I asked. "Rowena was the best option. She helped me get set up but in terms of actually fighting this fight…" I shook my head. "She's done. She's tired."

"But she can slam Lucifer back in the cage." Sam said. "We've got to at least try and call. Where is she?"

"Reno." Sam was already dialing her number as I answered. "She won't go for it." I repeated. "She's done. She's out. She doesn't want to fight anymore."

Sam kept the phone to his ear, and listened for a few seconds before he went completely still.

"What?" Dean asked, seeing the same change I was. "What is it?" Sam put the phone on speaker, holding it for all of us to hear.

"Oh, if you're looking for Rowena, she is presently indisposed." I stopped, taking a gulping breath. Rowena… She was gone. Lucifer was there. He was on the phone. He… "Which is a delicate way of saying, I stomped on her face till the white meat showed, and then set her on fire, just in case. Ah. Gingers. It was messy and... screamy, but it had to be done, Sam." He sounded so nonchalant as he explained everything. I wanted to teleport there, to check on her, but I knew who I'd really be seeing. "I'm about to be a dad. Can't raise the little nipper from a jail cell now, can I? Speaking of... you know where your little pal Castiel is?"

"You leave him alone, you bastard!" I shouted, gritting my teeth with it.

"Kylie?" He sounded curious. "Is that you? What's happening? Glad to hear you're not off in a hole somewhere, hiding from the rest of the world like you always do."

"Go to hell." I spat.

"Ooh! Good one. Witty. I'll use that in the future." I furrowed my brows, absolutely furious right now. "All right, well, I'd love to chat with ya, but, uh, why waste my time, right? It's not like you matter. I don't need to put on the old Sam suit anymore, much less the Cas one, do I?"

"You know, if you think we're just gonna let you walk," Dean tried to speak, but Lucifer cut him off.

"Oh, hey, Dean!" He sounded just as curious and cheery as when I'd spoke. "I know you fellas are gonna try, you know, whatever. But you can't kill me. You've never been able to kill me. And with, uh, one witch bitch gone, only one other left that I'm pretty certain can't put me back in the Cage," Sam cast a glance over at me, and I didn't say a word. I would need time to actually look at the Cage wardings and the magic surrounding it. Without that time… I couldn't do it. I couldn't just throw him in the pit like Rowena could. "So like I said... you all don't matter. Okay? Buh-bye. Buh-bye."

The line went dead, and I could feel my nails digging in to my palms. "I really hate him." I muttered. "If he doesn't think he can die he's got another thing coming. I still kind of remember what Amara did to lock him up. I bet if I put a little effort in to it, I could give him a new cage."

"And how long would that take?" Dean asked. I felt a little of the fire go out of me at that.

"Time." I replied. "Time that we probably don't have."

"Then Lucifer is right." He said. "We can't kill him and we can't slam his ass back in to the cage."

"But Kylie can do something." Sam said. "You just need time, right?"

"Time and him." I replied. "But, yes."

"So maybe we play for time." Sam offered. "Find Cas and Kelly, keep them moving. If Lucifer can't find them, he can't hurt them."

"You think Castiel is gonna go along with that?" Mary asked.

"You think we'll give him a choice?" Dean replied.

"He will." I assured them. "I know he will. He… He's not stupid. Once he knows, he'll do it."

"And the baby?" Mary asked.

"Hopefully, we can still siphon off its grace. If not, uh... we'll figure something else out." Sam said.

"We better." Dean agreed.

"Let me do some research." I offered. "I might be able to find a few things out that we could use, both against Lucifer and for Kelly's kid."

"All right, then." Mary smiled a little, oddly enough. "Kind of always wanted to punch the Devil in the face." I smiled with her. The image she was painting was a fun one. "So how d we find them?"

"Cas isn't answer his phone." I said. "I… I tried. I can do some tracking, perhaps. Make an attempt. It'll depend on how well they're warded."

"Well,we know Kelly's gonna have that kid soon. Like, really soon." Sam pointed out. "And according to the lore, whenever a nephilim is born, there are signs. Uh, storms, outbreaks of disease, uh, plague of locusts."

"Blood rivers?" I asked.

"Probably." Sam nodded.

"Things get Biblical." Dean concluded.

"Exactly. That much power into the world, whenever and wherever it happens, things get weird." Even as Sam said it, though, the explanation felt a little loose, and I could tell Mary was thinking the same thing.

"So we're looking for something...weird." She stated.

"Yeah. Story of our lives." Dean commented. I scrubbed my face with my hands. This was looking like a huge mountain again, and I couldn't let that be a thing.

"One thing at a time." I said, raising my hands. "Let me take down that dampener, and I can start running spells to try and find Cas or Lucifer and just do stuff, in general."

"We'll start running research on what kinds of weird are showing up." Sam added.

"Great. I'll help you with the dampener." Dean told me. I offered him a curious look for a moment, but I didn't say no. Dean followed me upstairs and through a maintenance side door. I kept a hand up and out, focusing on where the dampener was coming from. Had to be the maintenance route.

Along the way, I saw some debris from what looked like an explosion. Dean looked at it all proudly.

"That was me." He said, nodding happily. I just shook my head.

"I'll fix that when the dampener is gone." I decided, and kept moving forwards.

"So," Dean thought for a minute. "Are you OK?'

"What do you mean?"

"I think it's safe to say that you've been through some serious shit. We all have. The only difference is that you… you found a home within it, and you just had to literally burn it all to the ground. I just wanted to touch base with you, make sure you're doing alright."

"I'm not the same girl I was, what… Five years ago?"

"Almost." Dean smiled a little at that, and we came to a warding that was glowing a strange orange color. I put a hand to it, getting a feel for what was up. "You're really not the same person at all, are you?" He asked. I smiled. All I had to do was break the seal and it would be no worries.

"You got a knife?" I asked. He handed me one without a second's thought, and I got to work at chipping the paint away in a few different sections. "No, I don't think so." I answered. "I think too much has happened for that to really be an option." I didn't know which question I was answering though; whether or not I was OK or whether or not I was the same person. I figured the answer applied to both questions, though.

"So… What are you going to do?" We started moving again, continuing forwards. There were more wardings, at least two. I could feel them.

"Probably finish taking down the dampeners, do my research, look for Cas and Kelly…" I did my best to make it sound nonchalant about it. "Hopefully figure out a way to stop Lucifer. Didn't we literally just talk about all of this?"

"That's not what I mean." He said. "What are you going to do after everything?"

"Is there even going to be an after?" I asked. We came up to the second warding quickly, and I got to work. "I mean, think about it. This is Lucifer. We got rid of the American chapter of the Men of Letters, sure. I doubt they'll be coming back, I won't let them. But this guy… Our attempt to throw him back in the cage was a mix of luck and Men of Letters tech, but after Crowley…" I didn't even say the rest of the words. I just shook my head a little and kept scratching away. "And anything I can do would take a lot of time that I don't think we have, in all honesty." I finished, and looked over at him. "If there's an after, it's either one that's gonna kill us or make us wish we were dead."

"You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do." I said. "And you do too. You're just putting on a brave face because you still see me as the girl you first met that needed everything to be OK, and needed to know that things would work out in the end. Thank you for that, I honestly can't thank you enough for trying, but…" I looked over at him, uncertain of what else exactly to say. "What's left?"

"So are you going to give up?"

"No." I shook my head. "Hell no."

"Why keep trying if you think that there isn't a future?"

"Because I can't stop." I replied. "If I stop, then… Then I think I'll forget how to start again." I kept going, looking for the final warding. After a second, Dean followed.

"So you keep going." He concluded. I nodded.

"I keep going." And that was exactly what I did. Dean and I moved forwards quietly, his questions gone as we searched for the final warding. They hadn't been spaced too far apart, this must've been a rushed job. Well done rush, but still a rush.

He didn't say anything again until we came to the final warding, and I got to work at scratching away different parts.

"Hey Kylie?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"For what it's worth, even though we've all put you through a bigger mountain of hell than you ever deserved… I'm still glad you're a part of our family." I stopped then, turning to look over at him. "One of my biggest regrets is making you feel like you weren't, but I'm glad you're here with us, and I'm proud to call you family."

"Thank you." I nodded, uncertain of what else to do, and finished chipping off the wardings. "I… I'm glad you're my family too. I don't think that I could keep going like I am without you guys here."

"We're all in this together, kiddo." He assured me. I finished scratching it all off, and could physically feel the dampener disappear. I smiled a little, rolling my shoulders.

"That feels a lot better." I commented, looking over at him. "Can you feel it?"

"No." He shook his head.

"Fair enough." We made our way back to the door we came in from, neither of us particularly feeling good or bad. It was one problem out of the way, definitely, but the others…

We just had to keep going, keep moving, and not stop.


	43. Caring Too Much

I got to work on spells, right off the bat. Sam was kind enough to shut down the wardings so I could work without worrying about any difficulties or hold-ups from the Bunker. First thing to take care of was finding Cas and Kelly. If we could beat Lucifer, then we stood a much better chance. But if he got there first… We were screwed. I tried his phone again first, but just kept getting his voicemail.

"Hey, Cas… It's me. Everyone's alive, we're OK, but I really need you to answer me, please." I turned away from the others, keeping my voice low. "I know you're alive so I know that you're, well, alive. And I know that you're with Kelly, that you didn't kill her. On one hand I'm really grateful for that. You listened, you cared, and I'm really happy for that. But Sam and Dean's plan to make it safe for everyone… That's not a bad plan, OK? It's a good one, and one I'm pretty damned certain will work. I'm looking in to a few other options, but…" I stopped myself from rambling. "Look, I just need you to answer, OK? I just really, really need you to answer. I love you." I hung up, and got back to work.

Spells for finding Cas came first. That would be the quickest way to accomplish our goals. Find Cas, work from there.

Each spell I cast, though, fizzled out in front of me. Angelic tracking should've worked, it should have easily worked, but it didn't. And I was afraid to summon him in case A- it didn't work and B- he and Kelly were in danger, which would leave Kelly on her own.

Eventually I moved from the main room to a smaller side room. I took about two minutes to clear everything out, making sure there was still easy access in and our of the room and also stopping anything in there from getting blown up. "Trying some more experimental spells." I shouted out the door. "Don't worry." There was a round of slightly worried OK's, which I understood considering how a fair amount of the spells had already fizzled (or in the case of one, which had actually and quite literally blown up) in my face.

"What kind of experimental things are you talking here?" Dean asked.

"Mary can explain it." I said, thinking. "I need to grab some notebooks. Can you guys leave the wardings down?"

"Yeah!"

"Thanks!" I took a moment to disappear out of there, deciding it was worth the risk to go to the cabin. When I got there, it was empty. I took a moment to check for any leftover Men of Letter tech, and found two different microphones along with a magic sensor.

I'd been right to not come here before. Now, though… I took a moment to whisper in to both microphones. "Never come again." From there, they and the sensor were destroyed. I was quite certain that they wouldn't be coming back, but at the same time it would be better and easier to get my things quickly and leave.

Note to self, though. Sweep the Bunker later.

I grabbed my notebooks and a few spell ingredients I knew I would need before I showed back up in my makeshift spellroom. "I'm back!" I shouted. "If you guys hear some weird shit, don't worry!"

"OK." Mary was still doing her best to explain what I meant by experimental spells. To make it easier, I poked my head out to look at them.

"Advanced placement thing." I summed up. "Really, really fun."

"OK." The boys didn't look quite like they were certain, but they didn't quite exactly say no to my work. I walked to the kitchen to grab whatever else I was gonna need and got to work. I could modify those spells I worked on to find Metatron, try and change them for Cas. And there were the ones I used for finding Lucifer, too. I wrote them down after helping Crowley. I had options. "Where do you guys stash your angel feathers?"

"Down the hall, to the left, your old lockbox." Sam's answer was pretty simple.

"How'd you figure out the password?"

"Cas told us."

"Those are still just his feathers, right?"

"Yeah."

"Awesome." I headed down where he directed, and opened the box with a flick of my wrist. My witch wardings had been bad. I needed to improve those later.

There were a fair amount of feathers in there, enough to give me some options. I grabbed a good handful, and brought them back to the small room. And I got back to work.

A don't know how many hours passed, but I can count the explosions. Seven that were large enough to send me out of the room due to the amounts of smoke and flames, nine that actually did physically push me around due to the sheer force of the blast (I managed to hit each wall at least once until I finally positioned myself so that I'd just get sent out the door), fourteen that were enough to singe my hair and eyebrows (not that difficult to make them grow back, thankfully) and give me a nice new tan, twelve that threw soot in my face, and three that made a big-ass noise, but were all bark and no bite.

"Alright champ, break time." Dean decided, knocking on the wall. I turned over to look at him, probably looking like some sort of crazy metallurgy worker or coal miner or something.

"Gimme, like, three more tries." I requested.

"You've been in here for twelve hours." He replied. I widened my eyes.

"Well, that's twelve wasted hours then." I commented, running a hand through my hair. My fingers were met with soot and tangles. "Mind if I try to make these last three spells count then?"

"Get some food, first." He requested. "Some water. Maybe a chance to wash your face off." He took a glance at the angel feathers I had. "You've gone through a lot of those." I took a second to look at the actual pile size myself, and realized how many I'd gone through.

Shit, maybe I did need a break.

"Alright." I walked out to the smell of… burgers? Who cooked? My stomach couldn't care less, it grumbled at the realization. "Let me clean up a little first, and I'll be right there."

I took ten or so minutes to clean the grime and soot and evidence of failure off myself before I rejoined the others for food. At this point, I needed to accept the fact that Castiel had warded himself, and done it extremely well. I was kind of impressed, in all honesty.

But if I could get to him, then Lucifer definitely could. I just had to hope he was warded up good enough to slow the archangel down, if not hide from him completely.

I sat down with the others back at the BAMT, a burger waiting there for me. "Who cooked?" Dean raised a hand in response. I took a nervous bite, and when I realized how good it was I shot him a glare. "You knew how to cook this well and I did the majority of it when I lived here?!" I asked. Sam fought back a chuckle as Mary glared at her son and Dean… Dean just focused on the laptop in front of him.

"So… I've got a list of weird." He tried. I kept eating, motioning for him to continue. "Um… blackout in a bunch of different Texas towns?"

"Are they in the same area?" Sam asked.

"Were there any other weird instances around there?" Mary asked.

"No and no."

"Next." I replied.

"Kid born 5 weeks early?" Dean offered.

"Weird, but also normal." Mary said.

"Ok, well… Listen to this." He perked up a little at that. "A two-headed calf was born in Lava Hot Springs, Idaho. That's weird."

"That is weird." Mary admitted.

"Yeah, but not our kind of weird." Sam pointed out. I nodded.

"Whatever this kid is able to do, it's going to be a lot bigger and more noticeable than some scattered blackouts or a single premature baby or a baby cow born with two heads." I agreed. "It's going to be more regional, not in a bunch of different locations, and it'll be freaking huge."

"Bigger and badder." Sam added. I felt a short surge, and dropped my burger as a presence appeared next to me.

"You rang?" I turned, unable to believe what I was hearing. "Hello, boys."

"CROWLEY?!" I asked, staring at the demon. He looked perfectly fine, as though nothing had happened.

"In the flesh." He motioned to himself with a small flourish. "Miss me?"

Dean moved before I could even notice, launching himself over to sucker punch Crowley before holding a blade to his throat. "Did you do it?!" His anger was instantaneous, and a little terrifying. "Did you let Lucifer out?!"

"Dean, stop!" I told him. Crowley raised his hands, trying to reason with the man.

"I didn't 'let,'" Crowley started, but Dean wouldn't have any of it.

"Don't!" He shouted.

"Dean!" I argued.

"Moose, a little help here!" Crowley requested, glancing at Sam. "Kylie!"

"Dean, wait." Sam said.

"Please!" I pleaded. Dean stopped, looking over at his brother.

"Seriously?" Him and Mary both spoke at once, absolutely baffled by me and Sam's choices.

"Look, just don't kill him." Sam said.

"Thank you." I added.

"He worked the Cage spell with Rowena. Maybe he can help us." Sam offered. Dean still didn't move. I wanted to just take the blade from him, but at the same time… I could understand his anger.

"And what if he can't?" Mary asked. Sam shrugged.

"Well, then we kill him." Sam concluded. I shook my head.

"No, we don't." I argued.

"Wait a bloody moment, Cage spell?" Crowley asked. "I Thought you had mother for that, or at the very least Kylie can do it with some time and work." At that point, I couldn't help it. I waved at Dean's blade, and it disappeared from his grasp to re-appear neatly on the table in front of him. He just glared over at me for a moment before turning back to Crowley, but he didn't pick up the blade.

"Rowena's dead." I told him. He looked at me in surprise.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." Sam said. "Lucifer."

"Funny," he mused, a far-off look in his eyes for a moment. "I always thought I'd be the one to kill her."

"Crowley," Sam interjected. "Why did you do it? Save Lucifer… What did you want?" I'd been wondering the same myself, had been about to ask him, but… I hadn't gotten the chance.

"I wanted to win." He explained, a note of defeat and acceptance of it in his voice. "I perverted mother's spell, put Lucifer in a vessel of my own making because I wanted to win. You have any idea how many people have made a play for my throne over the years?" Crowley looked over at all of us, looked frustrated. "Lucifer, Abaddon, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Too damn many. I thought if I could put the Devil on a leash... my own personal nuke, no one would ever dare challenge me again."

"Yeah. That worked out great." Sam commented.

"It all ended with me narrowly escaping death by hiding in a rat, and making sure that she got out of there alive." He jacked a thumb at me for emphasis.

"Wait. In an...actual rat?" I was almost surprised to hear Mary ask that. Of all the things she'd seen and been through, and that was her only question. Nothing on Abbadon. Nothing on how Crowley wasn't Lucifer but was the King of Hell. Just about the rat.

"Wasn't too bad, really." Crowley admitted. "Gave me time to think. You know, I've been focused for so long on keeping my job," he looked over at me. "Never realized I hate it. All those whining demons, the endless moan of damned souls, the paperwork! I mean, who wants that?"

"Don't… Don't you?" I asked.

"Unh-unh." He shook his head. "Once, maybe. But now?" He took a glance over at me before finishing his words. "No. Not anymore."

"So why are you here?" Sam asked.

"Well, the wardings are down, I figured Kylie was here, and whenever there's a world-ending crisis at hand I know where to place my bets. It's on you, you big, beautiful, lumbering piles of flannel," he looked over at me next. "And the witch I trained myself, who by the way, am still proud of." Everybody gave me weird looks at that, but I just took it as it was. "So if you'll forgive my transgression, I'll make it worth your while."

"Which means?" Dean asked.

"After we put Lucifer back in his cage – together – I'll seal the gates of Hell." I widened my eyes at him, completely surprised. "You'll never see another demon again; apart from, of course, yours truly."

"You would do that?" Mary asked.

"Crowley, that… That's huge." I added.

"I know, and why not? They stabbed me in the back, I'll happily stab them in the front, the sides, and right up their little black-eyed asses." Crowley looked around at all of us, maintaining eye contact with me again for a moment. _**We need to talk soon**_. "So... we have a deal?"

"Yes." I agreed automatically, looking around at everyone else. They still looked at me like I was crazy. "Am I alive? Did he help? Yeah. Did he also kind of screw over us and the whole world as well?" I shrugged. "Also yes. But is he here now? One more yes. He's here to help. He's here to try and make it right." I looked around at all of them. "Can any of you name a time when you haven't made a monumental mistake, and then went back to try and fix it?"

Nobody said a word. Sam and Dean took in a breath, angry with the choice before them.

"Fine." Dean muttered, taking a few steps away.

"Fine." Sam agreed.

"I trust your judgement." Mary said. She and I had worked together enough for her to know I wouldn't side with Crowley light-heartedly.

"Thank you." I told them all.

"Thanks." Crowley's response sounded a bit more sarcastic than mine, but it was a deal. He helps, he seals the gates.

There was an awkward silence after that, and I looked around. Nobody wanted him there, save for me. "Come on." I stood up, grabbing the demon's sleeve. "You're going to help me." Everyone looked at me, still uncertain, but not quite because of me; because of Crowley being there. "I'll keep an eye on him, I promise."

I got some nods from everyone else, but no specific responses. I dragged Crowley off, ignoring his requests for a burger himself. "Come on." I muttered. I dragged him off to the side room. A second later, there was a silencing bubble around us, keeping our conversation solely in the room. Crowley took a moment to look around, seeing the results of my many failed attempts to track down Cas.

"What have you been doing in here?" He asked, surveying the space.

"Work." I answered. "Trying to track down Cas and Kelly before Lucifer finds them. What in the hell happened, Crowley?!"

"Do elaborate, please."

"I mean with Lucifer!" I was fuming. "Crowley, I'll stick my neck out for you, because at this point you're some of the only people I have left. But they're people too!" I pointed out the entryway, motioning to the people out there that considered me family. "Good people. And I know at this point, that you can probably be good too. I'll concede that to you!"

"Thank you."

"But Lucifer?!" I asked him. "You have to know that… that… that that was a stupid choice! It was insanely idiotic. I mean… You're the one who talks about chess and watching for every possible movement, but you blinded yourself to the possibility that he would get free. I mean, COME ON Crowley!" I threw my hands in the air, and watched a few sparks fly from them. "You know!"

"I know that I know." He replied. "I know. I'm fully aware."

"Then why?! Why do this?!" I shook my head at him. "Did you really need to win that bad, Crowley? Wouldn't putting him back in the cage have been enough?!" I watched for a moment, realization dawning on me. "This wasn't just winning back Hell, was it?" I asked. He didn't answer. "You wanted to humiliate him. You wanted to taunt him, to make him your bitch. You didn't just want to win, you wanted to take every piece first before you did." I watched, waiting for him to say something. "Answer me, damn it!"

"Fine!" He shouted. "Yes! I did! Are you happy now? I wanted to destroy everything of his. I wanted to win. I wanted to take out every piece along the way. I wanted to completely obliterate the Devil's sense of self-worth, and make him my personal slave."

"Why would you take that risk? You put all of us in danger by doing that! You put Rowena in danger, and now she's dead. You put Cas in danger, and he…" I reached down and grasped the rock. It was still warm. "He probably doesn't even know it. You put me and Sam and Dean and all of us in danger by doing that, Crowley. And now…" I brought a hand to my face, and realized that there was a tear trying to fall. I wiped it away as quickly as I could. "This is on you, Crowley. At the end of the day, Rowena's death is on you. Anyone else that Lucifer kills, be it myself or Castiel or Kelly or any of the rest of us, they're all on you."

"I know." Crowley repeated, his voice tired. Quite frankly, I was tired too; tired of hearing him say the same two words over and over again.

"I don't care if you know or not!" I told him. "Because I know you're not stupid enough to be purposefully ignorant from it, not since it's backfired in your face."

"Then what's the point of all of this?"

"I want you to actually care about it!" I answered. "I want you to give a damn about what you've done!"

"You don't think I do?!" He asked.

"NO!" I shouted. He seemed stunned by that. "Because if you cared…" I stopped, realizing I was a good three feet higher than him now. I lowered myself forcefully, doing my best to calm my emotions. "If you cared then you wouldn't have made this choice in the first place." I finally said. "If you cared none of this would be happening. But you didn't care about the rest of the world. You didn't care about those of us that stood beside you, those of us that actually give a damn about you, because I promise there was a point that Dean and Sam and Cas all cared, they cared more than you probably know. And I care. But you…" I needed to stay in control of my emotions. "You only cared about your own revenge."

"Don't…" Crowley raised a finger, pointing at me. "Don't you dare say I don't give a damn."

"Really? Give me one good reason why."

"Because if I didn't care, I would never have once bothered to protect you." He replied. "If I didn't care, you would cease to exist!"

"Really?" I asked. "That's your ace?"

"YES!" He shouted. "What more do I have to do to prove that I care?"

"I don't know." I admitted. "I just… This is a mess, one big mess that I just…" I walked around to the small desk, looking at the notebooks scattered about. It was all a huge mess, one that wouldn't be able to be cleaned up for a while. I scrubbed my face with my hand, deciding to change topics. We were getting nowhere with me just yelling at him and Crowley... He'd wanted something. "You… you said you wanted to talk about something. What did you want?"

"A favor." I raised my eyebrows at that.

"Really? A favor?"

"Yes." He insisted, looking around. He almost… he seemed like he didn't quite want to make eye contact. "I wanted to ask… I wanted to ask if you would cure me." Once he said the words, they hung in the air for a moment; heavy and honest and worrisome.

"What?" I had to double check, had to make sure I heard him properly.

"I want you to cure me." He repeated. "After I close the gates of Hell, I want you to… to make me human. I know you know one way, and I'm quite confident you've toyed with the idea at some point or another as to different ways to accomplish it." He wasn't wrong. I'd looked in to it while working for the Men of Letters, but my efforts had been quickly re-directed to other work.

"Why?"

"Because I am tired of my own existence." He said, and for a moment all I could hear was Rowena's voice coming from his mouth. "I'm tired of fighting for a throne I don't want, and I'm tired of being stuck with only one option in terms of character development. I am, quite simply, done." He admitted. "And I would like a chance to redeem myself in the future. You say that I don't care?" He shook his head. "I care. I care about the choices I've made, I care about the life I have lived, I care. I have cared for a lengthy amount of time, and every choice I have made since it started has either been to fight it, or has somehow made me care more." He looked at me pointedly with that remark. "Demons aren't supposed to care. Demons don't give a damn. I have fought against caring, done everything I could to make it stop, but I can't stop caring and can't stop these... _feelings_." His face soured at the word. "So I am done fighting. I am done walking with one foot in humanity and the other in cruelty." He took a slow, deep breath. "And I am asking… Pleading… for this favor from you. Please, if we can make it through this," his gaze was… honest. He was being honest in his request.

Everything that he was saying right now, he meant. He wanted to be cured. He wanted to stop being a demon.

"Make me human." He requested. "Please Kylie, please make me human."

After a few moments of silence, I answered. "OK." I agreed. "It's a deal. We stop Lucifer, you close the gates of Hell, and I… I'll make you human."

"Thank you." He nodded once, briefly. I surveyed the room around us. It was… well… kind of destroyed. At least, the walls and floor was. I focused my hand outwards on the walls, clearing away it all so that the room was back to normal. "It's hard to remember the girl that lit the curtains on fire, now." He commented.

"Yeah." I looked around. The room was immaculate, now. Just as it had been before. "I think… I think she's kinda gone, now."

"So who does that leave?" He asked. I waved my hand above us, dissolving the silencing bubble.

"Me." I said confidently. "It leaves me."

I walked out, about to re-join the others, when Crowley stopped me. "Before I came here, I made a stop with some old sources." He pulled a laptop out of his jacket. "Yours. No spy software on it. No Men of Letters tampering. It's 110% clean." I grabbed it from him slowly, uncertain of what to say.

"Thank you."

"No problem, Kylie." He hesitated a second before saying my name, putting a positive emphasis on the word. I felt… Better, from it.

I was me, after all.

We rejoined the others, Crowley following and taking a chair a little ways behind me as I got back to work. He had a piece of paper in his hand, notebook paper, that he was examining. It wasn't as important, though. I needed to look up different ways to… well… de-power an unborn Nephilim. I went back to the other room to retrieve a notebook I was certain was only half-filled, and another that I figured would be some sort of useful, before I hit the stacks. There were three different books on Nephilim, and only three. I could try them. I could hope they would have something.

Crowley poured himself a glass of Craig as he went between looking at us and investigating the piece of paper in front of him. Dean, Sam, and Mary typed away on computers with me for the next few hours or so as I researched all I could about Nephilim, and wrote down anything that could de-power the kid.

There wasn't much. At this point, it was looking like some minor surgery would be needed, or the kid would have to be alive to try some more. But right now… Our options were slim. Eventually I switched over to writing down everything I could remember about how Amara had bound Lucifer. I started writing down different spells and ideas, but I couldn't make sense of what they were or if they would work.

They looked like they would definitely do something, though. And they looked a little familiar. I couldn't tell if it was Amara-familiar, though. Maybe what I was writing down would have a sort of general connection to Lucifer?

Eventually, Crowley got bored. "This is what you do when I'm not here? Type?" He folded up the paper and put it back in his pocket, staring intently at all of us.

"Yep." Dean didn't even look up from his computer as he replied.

"I actually do bookwork and spells." I pointed out, holding up my book and written notes for proof.

"I'm quite certain you're also a typer too." Crowley stated. I refused to answer that time, just rolled my eyes at him.

"Wait a second." Sam said, gaining all of our attention. "I got something."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Okay," he took a second to re-read whatever was on his computer. "Two hours ago, there was a massive power outage in the Pacific Northwest."

"Definitely sounds weird." I commented.

"Sounds like the right kind of weird." Mary agreed.

"Oh, yeah. Wait. They tracked the outage to an address in North Cove, Washington, to a house currently being rented by one James Novak." I pursed my lips at that.

"I promise, I did talk with Cas about using names that aren't usually associated with him." I felt the need to say.

"Well, I've gotta say, I'm glad he didn't pick up on it completely." Dean stood as he spoke, grabbing a jacket off the back of his chair. "Let's roll."

"It's about time." Crowley muttered. I turned to put my things away, already plotting out what ingredients I would need for some possible ways to re-trap Lucifer. I had no guarantees any of them would necessarily work, but I had faith. Once I wasn't looking, I heard a cry of pain from Crowley. I turned instantly, hand raised, and saw Dean moving away from the demon; the blade impaled in his hand.

"Do you think we're gonna trust you out there after what you pulled? Hmm?" Dean asked. "No. Kylie may trust you, but I don't. So you stay here, you sit down, and you shut up."

"Dean!" I shouted, angry. "He's here to help, not hurt."

"He let Lucifer out!"

"He got me out, multiple times." I replied. "And he's closing up Hell for us. Don't you think that gives him at least a little trust? Enough to not stick a damn knife through his hand?!"

"Kylie," Crowley said, his voice surprisingly calm. "Dean is right." I whipped around to look at him, confused as hell. "I would be… compromised, if I were there. Too determined to win. You go with them. I'll stay here." I pursed my lips, looking between him and Dean.

"Fine." I agreed. "But I'm not leaving a knife in him."

"Kylie," Dean tried to argue, but I shook my hand.

"How do we know Lucifer isn't bringing any demons with him?" I asked. "It wouldn't be the first time he's done it and, not for nothing, but personally… I'd rather come with insurance that's not just my angel blades. And if you distrust Crowley that much, how do you know he won't try to steal it?"

Nobody said a word to argue, except the last person I expected to hear.

"Just go." Crowley muttered. "I swear to whoever, if you waste any more time with this I, personally, will kill you for wasting so much time." I glared at him, and he waved me off. "I'm serious. Go. You know where to find me if you all need my assistance."

I looked around at the others, waiting for them to speak. Nobody spoke to his defense or mine. I walked to the back room, picking up the ingredients I needed. When I came back out, I heard Crowley grunt in pain. Dean held the knife once more, and he set it down on the table. I watched him, curious.

"We trust her." He said, pointing at me. "You stay here."

"Deal." Crowley agreed. I ducked back in to the side room, grabbing a rag I'd used during spellwork. I passed it off to Crowley as I joined the brothers, looking over at Dean with respect.

"Thank you." I said.


	44. The Big Problem

We went outside and got in the Impala quietly. For the first time, I think we were all finally acknowledging what we were doing. We were trying to beat the clock; beat the Devil. _**Again**_. This wasn't an endeavor that had played out well before, for any of us. Sam and Dean had probably been through more with this than I had, but still…

If there was anything to fear, this was it. We'd been up against a lot, and we'd won a lot. We just kept coming out of these things together. It was reassuring, but at the same time… We didn't know anything that could kill Lucifer. An angel blade, maybe, but you had to get in close for that and even then… The Mark of Cain doesn't let its hosts be killed. Even with Amara out and free, it still was on him, and he was still a very, very powerful archangel.

We would just have to trap him until we could figure out how to kill him. It was… It was fucking terrifying. I wasn't even certain anything I had prepared would work.

All I knew was that if I wasn't dying, then I would wish I was by the end of this.

It was going to be a long ride to Washington, and that was time we didn't have. When everyone was in the car, I took a deep breath. "Don't start it yet." I requested. I remembered the last time I'd been there. I'd been so small…

Family vacation. I'd had to use a bathroom. The gas station had parking in back. If anyone saw us, they could be made to forget.

"Grab on to me." I requested. Nobody asked questions, just did as I requested. I planted a hand firmly on the car ceiling, focusing hard; remembering that gas station, remembering that place, embedding the memory in my mind. Ellensburg. We'd stopped on the outskirts of Ellensburg. Josiah was trying to pronounce the word, but kept saying L-burg. Art was too young to speak.

Ellensburg.

I pushed, hard.

A second later we were behind the gas station that I'd remembered. Everyone looked at me in amazement, unbelieving of my ability to do that.

"What?" I asked, taking a few shaky breaths. Everybody moved their hands away quickly, and I slowly lowered mine down from the car. "I like to believe I'm at least a little useful." From there I slumped down in my seat, putting my hands to my head. GOD, did it hurt.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." I said. "Just… Ouch. Haven't tried a warded car before. I think Chuck was the one who kept moving it."

"How did you know you could do it now?" Mary asked. I shrugged, my head still in my hands.

"I didn't." I answered, glancing over at her. I offered her a rueful smile. "Would've looked like a bit of an idiot if I couldn't have, though." Dean started the car, not really saying a word. I reached for my bag, rooting through the different ingredients until I found what I was looking for. Secret power bar stash. Exactly what young witches with a tendency to overreach a little bit need.

I munched as we kept going, Sam giving Dean directions from where we were to the place Cas was in. As we got closer, though, the headache didn't recede. If anything, it got worse. I munched one or two more power bars, and did my best to get in about an hour's worth of a nap. Nothing I did seemed to matter though; the closer we got, the worse I became.

"Are you OK?" Mary asked, realizing I wasn't doing too hot.

"Something's going on." I replied, clenching my eyes shut. This was worse than a vodka/tequila/jaeger hangover. "Keep driving. Maybe it'll go away or something when we get to the source."

"That's a very big maybe." She commented.

"Fully aware."

Nobody said anything else on my headache getting worse, but I just… Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong. I could feel it. And wherever it was happening, whatever was going on, Cas was at the center of it. I couldn't help but grip the rock in my pocket. It was still warm. He was still alive. That was all that I needed to keep going.

When we pulled up to the place, though, I didn't have time to take in the scenery. I had to get out, and get out of the car fast. I hurled myself from the vehicle as quickly as I could, crouching in some nearby dirt to, well…

Hurl.

"Kylie!" Mary rushed to me first, holding back my hair as I heard a door open.

"Dean?" Castiel's voice, clear as a bell. I glanced over, and saw… He was there. He was fine. He was… He was him.

"Cas, is this place warded?" Sam asked, his voice urgent. I did my best to stop the sickness, and stood; albeit slowly and with Mary's help.

"Yes, heavily." He replied. I looked over to see him, standing before the brothers.

"Against Lucifer?" I asked. That was when Castiel froze, looking past the brothers to see me. I waved my hand a little, fighting back a new wave of sickness. "Hey."

"Kylie." He rushed past the brothers quickly, and I couldn't help but gravitate towards him as well. He caught me in a tight embrace, letting out a sigh of relief. "You're OK."

"Of course I am." I replied, burying my head in his chest. "I don't go down easily."

"I tried calling your phone," he explained quickly. "When you didn't answer, I feared that you were in trouble, but I couldn't find you. And I... I had to turn off my own after… events." I shook my head, smiling.

"I don't care, and I'll tell you about it later." I promised, pulling away to look at him. "What's important is that we're together now." He leaned down to kiss me, but I stopped him, putting a hand between us. "You're not gonna want to do that. Not feeling too hot right now and I kinda just lost every power bar I ate on the way here."

"I don't care." He pushed my hand aside and kissed me, hard. For a moment, all the fear I felt… It disappeared. I had this. I had him. I had Castiel back.

For a moment, I felt better. WE could do this, together. With him, I believed we had a chance.

He pulled away, making a little bit of a sour face. "Told you." I giggled. Castiel nodded.

"I still believe it was worth it." He stated.

"Not that I'm not happy for your reunion here," Dean stated, breaking us out of… well… us. We both turned to look at him, Castiel keeping an arm firmly wrapped around my waist. "But we need to know if these wardings can keep back Lucifer." I put a hand up, feeling for what was there, as Castiel answered.

"I don't…" He paused, looking around at all of us. "Why are you all here?" I pushed further, trying to get a better idea of the wardings he had there. They were good, but…

I lurched forwards suddenly, falling back to my knees as I started to dry heave. This wasn't just an overreach of my powers from moving everyone and the car. This was more than that. This was something being dramatically, drastically wrong with the area near us. The power was… Wasn't right. Things weren't right. It wasn't Lucifer, but… It was perhaps even bigger.

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked, kneeling to my aide automatically. "Here." He put a hand on my forehead, and I could feel him searching for the source of my illness. A few seconds later… It wasn't perfect, but it was better enough so that I wouldn't be constantly sick.

"Thanks." I wiped my mouth, rising to my feet again slowly. This time, Castiel helped. "We need to update the wardings. Lucifer is coming."

"He could be right behind us." Mary added. I nodded for confirmation. I'd bought us as much time as I could by transporting us here, but this power… It wouldn't be long before Lucifer could feel it. I needed to start warding it, and fast.

Hell, I needed to actually see what was going on first.

"We're here to save your ass." Dean stated, raising an eyebrow to the angel.

"You and Kelly just taking off was a stupid move." Sam added. "But there's no way we're letting Lucifer get his hands on that kid. It ain't happening."

"Sam's right, okay?" Dean agreed. "We'll work through our crap. We always do. And I know that Kylie here is grateful that we're all here together. But right now, we are here to get you, get Kelly, and get gone." I nodded at Cas as well.

"She can't be moved." Castiel argued. "She's having a –" there were screams before he finished, emanating from the house. Kelly.

"I'll check on her." Mary decided, walking past us all to enter the house.

"How much time do we have?" Castiel asked.

"We don't know." Sam said.

"Probably not long." I pointed out.

"Hey, if he shows, can you flame on again?" Dean asked. I looked up at Castiel, confused as hell until I remembered what Sam and Dean had told me. "Can you torch Lucifer like you did Dagon?"

"No, that wasn't me. That was the child." I looked over at the house, where Kelly's screams of labor pain had emanated from. "And in case you haven't noticed, he's a little busy."

"Then I need to update the warding." I replied. "Is that where the power source is emanating from?"

"Power source?" Sam asked, looking between me and Cas. I nodded.

"It's what was making me sick." I explained. "Extremely powerful, extremely… I don't know how to describe it. Abnormal. Foreign. It doesn't belong and it's upsetting the balance of magic and if I can feel it, Lucifer can." I looked back at the house. "So if it's the kid and Kelly, I need to get up there now, remove the kiddo's power, and ward the grounds better."

"It's not the child." Castiel said. He looked like he understood. "Well… Not exactly. There's… Something you need to see." I followed Cas around the house, heading towards the back and…

To the power source. To the gold crack in everything that floated before us.

"Cas…" Sam said slowly. "What's that?"

"That's a tear in the freaking universe." I felt horrified as I spoke, keeping my distance as the boys got closer. "It leads to another one, one that's not ours. That… That shouldn't exist. This literally shouldn't be here. This is…" I ran a hand through my hair, fighting back the sickness. No wonder I felt off. "This thing shouldn't be here. This is literally not only supposed to be impossible, but also so, so bad and broken and… We have to get rid of it, now. This thing is like a freaking beacon, and we don't know what's on the other side. Anything can come and go through that crack."

"Through there it's Earth," Castiel explained. "But...but different. It's a– it's an alternate reality."

"You went through?!" I exclaimed.

"Yes."

"How in the hell is this thing in existence right now?" I asked. "And more importantly, how has it not levelled everything in a 40-mile radius?"

"It's the child." Castiel said. "With him being born, his power… it seems to be puncturing the fabric of our universe." I widened my eyes, looking back at the house once more. This kid… He was juiced up. He needed to be powered down, but first… First this tear needed to be gone.

"Awesome." Dean muttered.

"What exactly is on the other side?" Sam asked.

"You don't want to know." Castiel replied, his tone more than a little ominous.

"Yeah, well…" Dean let out a sigh, looking back at the… the Rift. "We need to."

The brothers stepped through first, sending off a shockwave that made me feel infinitely worse. I took some breaths, looking back at Castiel. "Promise to hold my hair if that thing makes me puke again?"

"Yes." He promised.

"Then let's go." I replied, standing my ground in front of the Rift. "Into the breach." I took a few steps towards it, gripping Castiel's hand tightly. Once I was in range, I reached out with a hand to touch it.

There was a small flash of light, and then the world… The world in front of us was grey. I looked around, feeling the sickness… Not quite dissipate again, but lessen; like I was being immunized.

"Whoa." Dean muttered, looking around. I followed suit, nodding in agreeance. Whoa was a bit of an understatement. The ground looked like ash, there were literal spikes with bodies impaled on them shooting from the ground – buried under it. The sky was cloudy, and looked like it had been that way for a long, long time. There was no vegetation, no dirt, any trees nearby were just dead and hollow bark…

The world was dead and grey.

"What is this place?" I asked. I knew it was a parallel universe, but other than that… I had no freaking clue. It looked like… Like the apocalypse came.

"It's Earth." Castiel repeated. "But this Earth is locked in eternal war between Heaven and Hell. There are armies of angels fighting hoards of demons, and the few humans that remain are caught in between."

"How do you know that?" Sam asked.

"A friend told me." Castiel replied.

"Oh, good. Now you're makin' friends? That's..." Dean shook his head, deciding to move past that. "All right, on a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is this?"

"Bad." I stated. "Really bad."

"I gotta say, a, uh, hole in reality to a bombed out Apocalypse world?" Sam summed up. "Yeah, I'm gonna go with 11."

"I can't…" I shook my head, looking around at everything. "Guys, I don't think I can ward this or hide it or anything."

"What?" Dean asked. "Why not?"

"This isn't our world." I said. "The power from that thing alone," I pointed to the Rift. "I don't know anything about it, other than that it is so unnatural that I can feel it, and it makes me feel sick. I don't know what else is different on this side, if magic exists or if it does, what kind of existence it's in. I can't guarantee that anything I try will work, not without extensive time and trials, and even then I have to do it on both our side and this one. That's…" I shook my head. "Warding it, and hiding it, isn't an option. I don't even know if I can cast magic here, much less its effectiveness." I looked around, and spotted a good area that was a decent distance away from them. It was a dip in the ash, with a barrier in front, like an extremely shallow and accessible pit. "Keep watch here. I need to… Hell, I need to get a better feel for the place, and I can't do it with energy from our Earth seeping through that Rift. Just give me a minute." I walked off to where I'd seen, leaving the boys to figure this out. Once I was certain that they would be a safe distance away, I sat on the ground and crossed my legs. This was… Unstable.

That was the atmosphere I felt around me. Instability. Broken and mangled and unstable space that could screw me over if I wasn't careful. At the same time…

Something about it felt familiar. The unsureness of the place… I couldn't quite place what it made me think of, but I could feel something in it that I recognized.

I pushed that thought out of the way, instead choosing to bury my hands in the ground. "Reveal." I whispered, sending out quiet pulses in to the ground beneath me. If this was a world overrun by angels and demons, I had to watch what I did. One wrong move and they'd be on us in a second. "Reveal."

Each pulse only told me newfound horrors. My hands burned as I did it, but I continued. I had to see how bad it all was. These spikes, they… they reached far in to the ground. It wasn't even dirt, not really. It was… Destroyed. Everything here that had existed was destroyed and warped.

I pulled my hands out of the ground, and saw small chemical burn marks on my fingertips. I tried to heal them, but… It wouldn't work. I couldn't heal here, or at least not myself. I could feel the energy there, within me, trying to. But it just… It wouldn't go. It wouldn't work.

I wondered if I would be able to heal anyone else in this place.

I held my palm up, thinking of fire. And I could feel it again, right under the surface. I could feel the burn right beneath my palm, within my skin, but it wouldn't appear before me. I pushed harder. Worst comes to worst, I could heal myself back in our universe. I kept pushing, fighting hard for it to come. " _Ignis inferno_." I tried, amping up the power just a little more. _Hellfire_.

Finally, my hand burst in to flames, igniting all at once. It didn't burn me, but it was… Uncomfortable to hold, and expending more energy than it should. I clenched my hand to put it out, but… It stayed. It was almost sucking the power out of me. I pulled back this time, reigning in as much as I could. " _Desino_." I ordered. Stop, halt, decease, end. It pulled back, but my hand was still on fire and… Starting to actually hurt. " _Desino_." I tried again, putting more force in my voice and intent. There was only a small fire in my palm now, but it was burning my hand now. " _DESINO_." I didn't shout, but I could still feel my voice reverberating. The fire finally receded, and I took a second to look at the burn on my palm.

Note to self. This universe was… Weird about magic. More force to stop it than to start it, but still more force as a whole for both.

If I was going to do anything, I was going to have to be very, very careful.

"Kylie!" Castiel's voice, not urgent, but calling me over. I got up and walked to them, seeing a new figure among the group. Tall, a little heavy, with a bit of scruff. Not someone I knew. Once I got within better eyesight, though, he held what definitely looked like a machine gun to me.

"Hey!" Dean shouted, pushing it away. I stopped where I was, uncertain of whether or not to continue to come forwards. "Easy there, Bobby! What the hell?!"

"Bobby?" I asked, deciding to keep stepping forwards (albeit much slower and more cautiously than before). "Bobby Singer? The Bobby Singer?"

"Don't you dare come any closer to me." He spat, glaring at me.

"What?" I looked from the elder man to Dean and Sam, confused as all can be. "What happened? Did I do something wrong?" I didn't ask if he'd seen what I had been doing. I was almost afraid to.

"This is some kind of trick." Bobby accused. "You're dead. We watched you die."

"Hold on." I took a small step closer, my hands raised and palms open. "Alternate universes. I'm not… I'm not whoever you saw die."

"So your name isn't Kylie Dillinger, you're not from Michigan, and you don't have two younger brothers." I stopped then.

"No, that… That's all true." I said. "Are they alive? Is my family alive?" I stopped then, thinking of other questions. "Wait, you knew other me. Other me…" I took a breath. "I died?"

Bobby lowered the gun then, inspecting me warily. "Yeah." He eventually confirmed. "Almost six or so months ago."

"Was I…" I took a breath. "How did I… the other me… die?"

"Angels." I glanced over at Castiel, and could tell he was thinking the same thing. What happened in this world? Bobby finally took a step towards me, taking a long, hard look. "It's really you, isn't it?" He asked. I nodded.

"From an alternate universe but, yeah," I nodded. "It's me." Then he did something stranger than anything else I'd seen today.

He hugged me, as though… As though I was family. "We missed you, you idjit." He muttered before pulling away. I looked at the others, and saw flashes of hurt on Sam and Dean's eyes.

"Wait," I asked. "Who's 'we?'"

He didn't answer, but his eyes looked so sad; it was as though there was some big secret or story that I was supposed to know, that he kept hoping I would know and understand, but I wasn't. "Things sound pretty different on your side." He commented.

"Yeah, it is."

"Sounds like a good world." He nodded a little. "I'm glad you're still alive in it." There were other things he wasn't telling me, I could see that, but for the moment…

He'd known me. The other me, anyways, just like how Sam and Dean had known the other him. He'd known the alternate me, had probably cared about the alternate me even. The least I could do was at least try to live up to whatever version of me he'd known.

"Was the other me…" I wasn't certain how to phrase it. "Was she good? Was she… Did she get a chance to lead a normal life?"

"As normal as it gets." He replied. "They told me about what you can do. She wasn't a witch." I felt bittersweet about that, but Bobby didn't seem to be judging me for that. He was just stating facts. "She lived a good life. A short one, but a good one."

"Did she," I glanced over at Cas. "Did she get married?"

"Yeah. She did." I let out a small sigh of relief. She'd made better choices than I had. She'd married Cas. I smiled up at Bobby, uncertain as to what to say.

"I'm sorry I'm not the Kylie you knew," I finally said. "But… I can promise you that, from what I've heard about the other you from those boys," I motioned to Dean and Sam. "That she was pretty fucking fortunate to have known you too. There's probably a lot that you know about her, and a lot of her that I'll never be, but… Thanks for watching out for the other me. I know she couldn't have been easy to deal with."

"Shut up." He muttered, but I could see a small smile on his face too. I looked at the guys. They… They needed a moment with Bobby, one that I wasn't a part of.

"I'm gonna head back." I told them. "Check on Kelly, see what I can do in the time we have. Be careful." I got on my tiptoes to kiss Cas on the cheek, and heard a sharp intake of breath from Bobby. I didn't turn to look at him, though. I didn't need to be there, now.

I stepped through the Rift calmly, feeling more better than I had on the other side. The inoculation theory was probably correct. As a test, I focused on my burned hand.

It healed without any difficulties on my part. "At least it's normal here." I muttered, striding in to the house. I had to form a game plan, and fast. That rift couldn't stay open, but I didn't even know how to close it, much less make sure the thing was stable.

I was going to need help. But first things first, I had to update the wardings.

Man, Dean and Sam were NOT going to be happy when I called my backup.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

 **Hey everyone, WriKai here! So that was a small hint for the Alt-Universe fic I was considering writing. I'm actually planning on writing it from a different Point of View (not Kylie's), but I don't really want to give that away just yet. However I do intend on making Kylie more perma-dead for this one, but not off the bat. There will be history and evolution over time, etc. etc., but... yeah. I got a lot of positive encouragement to write it so I'm getting the first few chapters or so down now before I start putting it up on here. Keep a lookout for "Believing in the Bizarro"!**

 **Feel free to keep sending messages of different thoughts or ideas or criticisms, I appreciate every single one. And as for the longer chapters for these last few, I'm trying REALLY REALLY hard to NOT hit 50 chapters, because I feel at that point it's going a little overboard, but this was such an intense season I wanted to do a lot with it. I'll try to limit my chapter numbers for Bizarro and with the next installment (I'll reveal the name in the last chapter, like always, but if you guys wanna shoot out any of your own ideas then send me a message and I may change my mind!).**

 **As always, thank you all for sticking with me and this series! Hope you're still enjoying what you read!**


	45. If I Die Tomorrow

I did all I could to improve the wardings that were there, but with the Rift being so close… It was something Lucifer would be able to lock on to soon, if he hadn't already. And that Rift was still messing with my abilities. I frequently had to take breaks so I wouldn't over-exert myself. During these breaks, I intermittently brought some damp towels and water bottles up to Mary and Kelly. It was the least I could do, and they seemed grateful for the efforts. Kelly stopped me before I left the first time, though, locking her hand around my wrist.

"Castiel is a good man." She said, her voice insistent. "You're lucky to have him."

"Thanks." I smiled at her, patting her hand lightly. She needed to be calm, I think. That was what Mary had been doing, anyways. But it still seemed like she was worried.

"You and him will watch over Jack, right?" She asked. I couldn't power the kid down now, not in the middle of labor. She knew that. She knew, and she didn't even want to power him down. She wanted him as he would be.

And she wanted me to take care of him.

"Of course." I promised, glancing over at Mary. "We all will."

"Good." She let me get back to doing wardings then. I left Mary with a few sheets of paper that had angel-banishing sigils on them. They would work, but I couldn't promise that they wouldn't mess with Kelly or the kid.

We chose not to tell Kelly that part.

Once I finished the new warding, I dialed Crowley's number on the landline at the house.

"Hello, this is Black and Brimstone and Hellfire Castle," Crowley greeted. "What would you like to order today? We're having a special, anything you want in exchange for your soul."

"I need your help." I said. "This is big. This is really big."

"Is this you asking or the Winchesters?"

"Me." I stated. "They don't know I'm asking. They're…" I glanced over at the Rift. "Busy, for the moment."

"And how do I know that I won't be stabbed on site?"

"Please." I requested. "Crowley, this… I don't think I can do this. It's too big. It's…" I took a breath. "I'll deal with Sam and Dean, I promise. I'll take the blame. But I need someone who can work spells with me, or else I can't do any of this. This isn't me being scared or worried, this is me literally saying that if I do this on my own, I'm going to die." I let out a hoarse laugh. "Hell, I'm probably dying either way, but I'd rather make sure the job gets done if I do bite the dust." There was a pause on the other end, followed by some rustling.

"Any ingredients you need from here?"

"Whatever you think is necessary to deal with something… Something that could cross between universes and potentially break it." I heard more rustling, followed by the sound of paper being unfolded.

"Give me ten minutes." He requested. From there, the line went dead. I let out a sigh of relief, hanging the phone back in its holder. I knew if I did this on my own, it would sap everything out of me, and with the way that Rift was messing with me… I wasn't certain if everything I had would be enough.

I took a seat watching the Rift, a bottle of water in one hand and a power bar in the other. I needed to recharge, re-evaluate, and have at least some sort of a plan when Crowley got here. With two people working a spell, we could potentially work the Rift from both sides and make a better attempt at warding it's power to silent. Hell, there could be something that Crowley would see and I would completely miss. I wished Rowena was here to help too, but…

But she wasn't, and that was all I could think on the matter. I couldn't lament, I just had to accept it and keep moving. I had to take control before it overwhelmed me.

I threw out some different minor spells, seeing if there was any change with prolonged proximity to the Rift and if anything was seeping through to our end. Nobody from their side had come to here yet, though, so that was in our favor. But with us crossing over in to there… It was going to cause some major problems, but I couldn't tell as to when.

Sam, Dean, and Cas crossed back over a few minutes later. I stood up to greet them, asking if they were alright.

"No, I think we're pretty far from all right." Dean stated honestly. "I mean, we've got Lucifer on this side," he pointed to the ground beneath his feet for emphasis. "We've got Mad Max World on that side." A point towards the Rift. "I mean, yeah, we've been down before, but this? I-I mean, I don't even know where to start."

"I had an idea." I stated, gaining their attention.

"Great, what is it?" Sam asked.

"You're not going to like it." I replied. Once those words left my mouth, I felt a small displacement of air beside me.

"Oh, come on!" Dean shouted, pointing next to me. "Him?!"

"I called him." I told them. "I'm sorry, I needed help from someone who could work magic too."

"Hello boys. Again." Crowley greeted.

"I can cast some spells." Castiel pointed out. I shook my head.

"This isn't something that angel magic will work well in." I told him. "And I don't want to put you at risk like that. That place… It took more work than it should've to light a flame in my palm, and even more to extinguish it."

"What, I'm expendable?" Crowley asked. I shook my head.

"No, but I also know Kelly trusts Castiel more than you, and she'll need all the protection she can get once Lucifer gets here."

"What about the wardings you put up?" Sam asked. I shook my head.

"They'll stall him from the house, but with this thing here," I pointed to the Rift. "If I can feel it, I'm certain that Lucifer can detect it too, and I have no idea how to close it. I can't ward it from him on my own, much less do that and set up something that would bind Lucifer long enough to be effective."

"Actually," Crowley commented, rooting around his pocket. "I think we can close this." I turned to him, confused until he held up a piece of paper in his hand. It was… It was the spell I'd scribbled down so long ago, the one I didn't know the purpose of. He handed it to me, and I looked over the workings once more. He'd added to it, finishing the spell, adding in a second part that I hadn't even seen; adding in his part.

That was what had been so familiar. The strangeness that I felt in the other world… It was the same feeling I'd had when I looked at this spell.

"Crowley, I wrote this down… I don't even know how long ago I started working on this!" I exclaimed.

"After Lucifer's child was conceived?" He asked. I looked back through my memories, trying to think. Had I started this before or after Jack existed?

"Yes. No." I shook my head. "I… I don't even know when I started this. I didn't know what it did. I kind of just… Just pushed it aside, more or less."

"After or before the Darkness?"

"After… After Amara and Chuck left." I decided. That sounded right. "But other than that… I don't know when I started this."

"I think it was after the child existed." Crowley said. "I think that somehow, somewhere in your being there was a part of you that knew something big would be coming, and tried to prepare. You just didn't know it yet."

"And what if it was before?" I asked. "What if this was started before any of that?"

"Then we're extremely fortunate." He answered. "Because this spell will close that Rift." I widened my eyes, looking from the paper to the demon. He was right.

This would work.

"If it's closed…" I could feel the wheels in my brain working. "Can… Can anything from our side trapped on the other come back?"

"No." Crowley offered me a small, devilish smile at that. "I was thinking the exact same thing."

"Hold on, Wondertwins." Dean cut in. "What are you two thinking? What's the plan?"

"Do you think you can kill Lucifer?" I asked, turning to face them.

"Bobby's got a gun that might work." Sam replied. "It shoots bullets made from angel blades."

"Cool." I commented. Crowley huffed.

"I've done that already." He muttered.

"Well, we've got a plan too." I said. "If those bullets don't work… We can still trap him."

"How?" Sam asked. I just pointed at the Rift behind him in response.

"If we time it right, we can close the Rift with Lucifer inside." I said. "We can give him the apocalypse world he wants, and leave him there for good." I smiled at Castiel, and saw him smiling back at me. "We can do this. I really think we can."

"If you have faith," Castiel said, reaching forwards. I gripped his hand tightly, feeling… Driven. I could do this. "Then I have faith as well." He concluded.

"I don't like this." Dean commented, looking at all of us. "But… But it's the best option we have."

"Are you sure it'll work?" Sam asked.

"It's gonna take some luck." I admitted. "A lot of it. But I think it's our best option, especially if the bullets can't kill him. And either way," I glanced back at the Rift. "That needs to be closed, before our world becomes the same. This will work." I felt assured in my words, assured that I was right. "I know it will."

"Alright." Dean agreed. Sam nodded as well.

"What do you need?" Sam asked. Crowley lifted a bag as I looked over the spell.

"I grabbed everything I could off of the list." He said, handing the bag to me. I looked over what he had in there and compared it to what the spell would require. It looked like he had almost everything, save for one or two things I already brought. I stopped at one of the ingredients. Angelic grace…

I couldn't ask that of Cas. I couldn't… He needed to be an angel, that I knew. We needed him to stay him. We needed him to protect Kelly and… And Jack.

I glanced over at Crowley. He was watching me cautiously, not saying a word. I went down the list a little more, and saw the last ingredient that he had added.

A life.

To stabilize the Rift and close it, we needed angelic grace and a life. In an instant, the answer came to me as how to solve both problems with one person.

 _"The angel grace has bonded completely with you." Castiel had explained. "As long as there is a small part of it inside of you, you will never die, your body will age at an extremely slower rate if at all, and by almost all rights and definitions, you should technically be considered a… a Nephilim."_

 _"But I'm not." I remembered feeling very compelled to say that part. "I wasn't born like this, it just kind of happened and… you said almost. What's the almost?"_

 _"It may be bonded with you, but it can also still be removed from you. If that happens, a part of your soul really will be missing, then. You will become fully human, and any other side effects would be indeterminate until that point."_

 _"So what you're saying is, if I lose the grace, I'll die."_

 _"No, I don't know what would happen." He responded. "Just nothing good."_

I nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah." I said, glancing back over at Crowley. He knew. Of course he knew. He always knew. "We have everything."


	46. Have I Said All I Can Say?

Crowley and I disappeared in to the Rift after doing some prep on our side. We didn't say a word about the spell besides "hand me this" or "add that" or basic partner instructions. I couldn't talk about what would need to be done, not in front of the others.

Before we disappeared though, we were finished in that house. I kissed Castiel hard, wanting to make these last moments count. "I'll see you on the other side." He promised. I nodded, feeling my heart ache.

"Yeah." I lied. "I'll see you too. I love you."

"Kylie," something was weighing on him, something that he wanted to say but didn't know how.

"What?"

"After this…" He took a shaky breath. "Marry me." I stopped, almost dropping the bowl in my hands.

"Cas…" I started to say, but he cut me off.

"I know this is the worst time to ask, I am fully aware and I'm sorry if this makes you feel odd or… unsure." He kept going. "But I love you, and I've regretted from the beginning that I hadn't married you like I promised. So please, Kylie, after this is over," he took the bowl out of my hands and set it on the table, and reached behind my neck. He undid the necklace and removed the ring from it, placing it delicately on my finger before he clasped both my hands tightly. "Will you marry me?"

I felt tears falling down my face, and knew I would never forgive myself for this. I would be surprised if he would.

"Yes." I promised, knowing the words were a lie. "Yes Cas, I'll marry you. Just make it out of this, OK?" He smiled brightly, kissing me again.

"We're both making it out of this." He told me. "We're both going to be fine, we're going to win, and when we get married…" He kept smiling, and it only made me want to cry more. "I know you'll look beautiful. We'll finally have that life we dreamed of so long ago, with a few changes that I believe make it better." He glanced up at the upper floor, and I knew that Kelly had made him promise the same thing; made him promise to take care of Jack when she was gone.

He was imagining us as a family, a married family with an adopted child. I held back every tear I could, nodding.

"Yeah, Cas." I nodded again. "We will. I… I can't wait." That part was true, I couldn't wait to have that life with Castiel.

I just also knew that I wouldn't live to see it.

He wiped tears from my eyes, smiling calmly at me. "It's OK." He assured me. "I know you're scared, but it's OK. We can do this. I have faith in you, and faith in Jack." I cleared my throat, finally putting up a dam that was stable and keeping back tears.

"Thank you. I love you." I hugged him tightly, and kissed him one last time. "I love you, Cas."

I picked up my items, and walked outside to meet the demon. Castiel kissed me one last time before Crowley and I disappeared in to the Rift. We made sure that Bobby's Rufus gun was placed not too far from it, giving Dean the best chance he had at using it. From there, we went to where I'd been testing my own powers and hid behind a spire. We started mixing and getting to work, putting everything together as quickly as we could. We didn't know how much time we had, now, but I doubted it would be much.

When it came time to add the angel grace, Crowley looked over at me. "You ready?" He asked. I nodded, and he made a small incision with my angel blade in to my throat. Not enough to kill me, but enough to extract the grace.

" _Exitus_." I whispered, focusing on the grace inside of me. Crowley held the bowl to my throat as… I could feel it. I could feel the grace leaving my body. It was a slow process, but I could feel when it was done.

I was thankful that I was sitting. I would've collapsed completely if I hadn't. I looked over at Crowley after he moved the bowl away from me, taking a glance at the spell we were setting up within it. We were doing good.

"How do you feel?" He asked. I looked over myself. There were possible consequences with this, but aside from being extremely tired…

"I feel fine." I said, looking in to his eyes. I let out a sigh of relief. I was fine. Nothing bad had happened.

Then my palm erupted in to flames for a moment. Crowley recalled them quickly, but the damage was done, and there was a burn mark on my palm…

Just like there had been earlier, the one I'd healed on myself. I stared at it in confusion, uncertain of what was happening until there was a snap, and I couldn't help but scream. Crowley dropped my blade between us as we both looked down and saw my leg…

It looked like Dean's had, when I healed it. I looked up at Crowley, scared. "What's happening?" I asked.

"Did you heal recently?" He asked.

"Yeah. Myself when I came from here the first time, and I healed Dean maybe two days ago." I replied, looking from my palm to my leg. "Crowley… Is it…" I thought for the right words. I'd done a fair amount of healing on my friends and myself. "Is… Am I…"

"I don't know." He said, understanding my fear. This was recent, but there was plenty of healing in my past. What if they all rebounded on me, and did it before we could finish the spell?

My question was answered by my nose snapping, and I fought back another screech. I remembered healing Jody's nose, in the Compound.

"Now we do." I said decisively. "Come on, we need to finish." As I spoke, we heard incoming footsteps, followed by a spray of bullets. Sam arrived a second later, taking a glance at the both of us.

"What happened to you?" He asked. I shook my head.

"Not important. Are you ready?" I asked.

"Yeah, but Kylie, what's wrong with you?" He asked, looking me over. That's when he saw what was in the bowl. "Kylie, what did that spell require?"

"Nothing we didn't already have." I stated. "You ready to do this?" He nodded, holding up a small vial. In it was, well… My own magic. I smiled. I'd given it to him in case we needed in, in case the spell took too much, and now I guess it was useful.

"Good, pour it in." I said. It would help fuel the spell and give me just a second to do the last preparations. Sam, however, didn't know that.

"That's the last of it, that's everything, right?" Sam asked, his voice hurried. I took a deep breath, shaking my head. I couldn't tell them until it would be too late. They wouldn't have let me cast this spell if I had told them, and we had to do it. This had to work.

"Not exactly," Crowley said, looking over everything. That last ingredient was the only one left.

"What?" Sam asked.

"You wanna heal that rip," Crowley explained. "We need one more _minor_ ingredient."

"What?" Sam looked bewildered as his gaze shifted from myself to Crowley.

"It needs a life." I stated, looking over at Sam. He paused, seeing the expression in my eyes, and I could tell he knew as well.

"No." Sam said, shaking his head. "No. You can't do this to us. You can't do this to Cas! Kylie, no!"

"It needs a life, Sam." I explained. "It needs the force of it, the power of willing and honest sacrifice from where it originated, from our universe," I took a second to clench my fists, feeling random bullet holes start to appear in my body. It was getting worse, I was starting to get tired, and this universe was sucking the spell towards the Rift. If we didn't do this soon, I would be dead before the sacrifice could be made, and the spell wouldn't work without a life intentionally sacrificed towards it. "Sam, this thing won't work without it. It needs life, and it needs death. Now we don't have much time. Crowley," I didn't bother trying to hand my angel blade to Sam. I knew he wouldn't do it, he couldn't do it. So I gave it to Crowley, pressing the hilt firmly in to his palm as I nodded. I'd lived a good life, apparently in this universe too. I was alright with this. "Make it quick."

"Kylie, you're insane!" Sam stated. "What about Cas?"

"And the spell needs you to finish itself." Crowley reminded me. I ignored Sam's question, focusing on Crowley.

"No it doesn't." I stated. "At least, not alive. All it will need is a source of power to feed off of. It can still do that from me, even if I'm dead." I knew I was right on that one. The spell already had its hooks in me, and it was taking everything it could. "It's already pulling magic from me of its own accord, pulling my power in to the spell and to itself. And I'm not walking out of here." I motioned to my mangled leg. I couldn't walk, not with every injury I'd ever healed rebounding on me like this. I was out for the count, I wasn't making it out of here, and I knew it. The only way I could live was if I could make it to the Rift, but I couldn't do that until the spell was completed. I would have to be carried, and it would slow people down.

In essence, the only reason to keep me alive wasn't a tactical one, it was an emotional one. And that wouldn't save the others.

I nodded at Crowley, moving my shirt collar aside to give him the clearest shot. "All this spell needs is a willing sacrifice. I'm dead meat, dead weight, and the best candidate to be dead at this point. So, make it fast." I requested, closing my eyes. "Tell Castiel I'm sorry, and that… that I love him." I fiddled with the ring for a moment, and considered removing it. But I couldn't. I just… I needed something, something to hold on to. "Tell him I'm sorry for keeping the ring, but I would rather go holding on to it I think." I pursed my lips, clearing my mind. I could do this.

It was one last sacrifice to save the world. I was willing to do that. It would save Cas and Sam and Dean and Crowley and everyone. And this time, there would be a body and witnesses and the rock so Cas didn't get held back thinking about me coming back again. I braced myself, taking a few last breaths as I thought of him. We're in this together, Kylie. I could hear his voice quietly in the back of my mind. We save the Nephilim, and we stop separating from each other. We're in this together from here on out, as long as you'll have me.

I'm sorry, Castiel. I apologized in my mind. I'm sorry I can't go back to you. I love you.

I waited for the sharp stab, and hoped it would be painless. Maybe I'll see Cas in Heaven, if I go to the Heaven in my own world. He'll understand. He'll forgive me for what I've done. I had to hope he would, anyways.

Instead of death, however, I felt a hand on the side of my face and chapped lips on my forehead. I opened my eyes, looking up confused as Crowley withdrew. Sam was staring in confusion as well. Crowley just smiled a little bit. "Get her out of here, Moose." He ordered. "And Kylie," he leaned down impulsively, hugging me tightly. "Don't ever give up." He requested. "Don't ever stop fighting."

"Crowley?" He disappeared, and I looked up to see Lucifer being buffered back from Dean.

"Is it finished?" Sam asked. I nodded, still watching as Crowley stood toe to toe with Lucifer.

"Yeah, except for the… the…" I couldn't bring myself to say the word sacrifice.

"Good." Sam said, picking me up quickly. He started sprinting, hauling ass to get me and him over to Dean without Lucifer's interference.

"Sam, Sam we have to help him!" I argued, looking back at Crowley. I couldn't hear him. He was speaking, Lucifer was smiling, but I couldn't hear him. "Sam, we have to help Crowley!"

When we reached Dean, Sam stumbled, and I fell from his arms to the ground. I bit back a screech of pain from trying to land on my feet. Dean and Sam leaned down to grab me, pulling me backwards towards the rift. It was easier. I couldn't blame them.

I also couldn't tear my eyes off of Crowley. Sam and Dean stopped at the crack, waiting for it to stabilize. "What's happening, why isn't it fixed yet?" Dean asked. Sam said something in reply, but I wasn't paying attention to their conversation. I was still watching Crowley and Lucifer. I couldn't see his face, only the Devil's, but I could read his body language. He was resigned. He was determined.

He was him.

Lucifer smiled, and my angel blade fell neatly in to Crowley's palm. They talked a little longer, but not much. Crowley turned back to look at us, just out of his peripherals. He was smiling his own confident, self-satisfied smile.

"Bye boys," he said. "Bye Kylie." Crowley held the blade out almost perpendicular to his body, and in one swift movement stabbed himself. I couldn't help it then. I screamed his name as he fell. It was almost in slow motion, with so many things happening at once. Crowley careened towards the war-scarred earth (but then again it wasn't Crowley anymore. It was an empty, long dead vessel), Sam and Dean reached down for my arms again, starting to pull me up and back towards the rift as the spell went in to action, sensing the nearby death. And all the energy I could've possibly had, everything from me that had gone in to making this spell, left my body completely to keep the rift open and stable. It would be open for a few minutes, just long enough for us to get through.

Then there was light behind us. I blinked, trying to get my own vision stabilized as I watched, dazed, as Castiel strode towards Lucifer. He had angel blade in his hands. "Cas?" I asked, and heard my own question mirrored in Dean's voice.

"Come on," Sam said, hurried, and I felt arms resume their efforts pulling me backwards.

"No," I argued, struggling against them. I had to help Cas. I had to help him. "No, no, CAS!"

"Come on!" Sam shouted, pulling me more.

"CAS! CAS!"

"We gotta go, we gotta go!"

"CAS!" I watched him keep walking away as Sam and Dean pulled me through the rift, yanking me away from him. "CAS!" I tried to get up, and felt my legs continue to buckle around me.

"Kylie, you can't go through that again, Lucifer will KILL YOU!" Sam shouted, keeping me held back.

"Like hell!" I shouted, crawling on my damn hands towards the damn rift. I had to help him. I wasn't leaving him. I wasn't going to let him leave me. We were in this together. No more leaving each other. No more missing each other. We were a team. We were supposed to be together. "CAS!" I howled his name, screaming it in fear as Dean and Sam continued to hold me back, and Castiel continued to not walk back through the rift.

There was a moment of silence, one that none of us could stop. It was as though nothing around us dared make a sound, and I could feel it. Everything around us was holding still, in that moment, waiting to see the tragedy that would occur.

"No," I breathed the word out, starting to hyperventilate as seconds that felt like millennia ticked by, and Cas didn't walk through. "No."

Then the rift illuminated, and out of its light walked Cas, breathing hard. I smiled, fighting the fruitless battle to stand so I could kiss him and thank every God in existence that he was OK, that he wasn't dead, that he was alive and that we were still in this together, like we promised.

"Cas," I breathed out his name like a prayer, feeling so relieved and thankful. He was alive. He was OK. He was here.

Then it all hit at once, all the energy and power and rage that had been waiting quietly for the outcome of this moment; It all hit in a flash of white light that I couldn't look away from as Castiel arched his back, and his eyes turned white.

" _ **NO!**_ " I screamed, and I could hear it reverberated in the space around us. I slammed my fist on the ground and the earth shook, small cracks racing out from where I'd struck. Castiel's body fell limp to the ground, his eyes burned out of their sockets. I crawled over, slowly, uncaring as to what else I was crawling towards besides him. I kept crawling until I reached his body, crying and begging for him to come back, please, please just come back. I reached across to close his eyes, and cradled his head to my chest. "Please, Cas," I begged. "Please. Please don't. Cas, please. Come back. Come back to me please, Castiel." I kept whispering quiet pleas as I heard a familiar, uncaring chuckle above me. I looked up to see Lucifer, smiling down on me without a care in the world.

"Well," he commented. "That was fun."


	47. It Should've Been Me

I stared in horror, looking up at the archangel looming above me. "Seriously, guys, points for trying. Super impressed, but, uh... playtime's over." He flicked his wrist at me, and I went sailing in to the side of the house. Mary rushed over to me, making sure I was alright. I couldn't move, though. I couldn't stand. I recoiled in on myself, and felt as though someone was stabbing my stomach and shoulder. Mary tried to help me, but I shook my head.

"Run." I whispered, reaching a hand out to her. I could get her out of here, get her somewhere safe. It was all over now. Lucifer was on the wrong side of the Rift. It would close any second, and we had no other options.

But when I touched her, I couldn't force her to go anywhere, couldn't get her out of here. My power… It wasn't there. It didn't exist anymore. She saw what I was trying to do, and saw that it didn't work.

I watched as her jaw set, and she turned to face the Devil.

"Get away from them." She ordered, advancing forwards.

"Mary, no!" I shouted. She ignored me, though, and walked until she was face to face with Lucifer. He just smiled cocking his head to the side.

"I'm gonna guess your name is Mary, right?" He nodded. "Yeah, I've heard about you. You, uh, are certainly living up to the hype." She didn't say anything, just pulled something out of her pocket. Lucifer didn't notice, though. He kept talking. "Look, seriously, I just wanted to say thank you for everything. I owe ya, kid." He smiled, and I could finally see what Mary had behind her back.

Brass knuckles, enchanted with enochian.

She took another step forwards, past the brothers, and I watched as Sam put out a hand to stop her. "Mom, Mom, Mom." He shook his head, fear evident in his voice. He didn't see the knuckles. He just thought he was about to watch his mom die.

"I love you." She told them, her voice calm and clear. I let out another scream, feeling more bones break and more bullet wounds show up and my head… My head was killing me. But that scream, that was enough to get everyone's attention for a moment.

Everyone's except Mary's.

She swung hard, and I could hear her fist connect squarely with Lucifer's jaw. He took a few steps back as Sam rushed to my aide, trying to help me up. "Kylie, what's happening?" He asked. "What's wrong?"

"Cute." I heard Lucifer comment. "Is that all you got, mama?"

"It's the spell." I said. "It's almost done. It needed angelic grace. Sam… I couldn't ask Cas to do that. I gave it mine. And now…" I bit back another scream as I heard Mary punch again, feeling gashes in my arm start to open. "Sam, every time I healed myself or someone else… It's coming back."

Mary punched again and again and again, I could hear her. Sam looked between me and her, uncertain of what to do. Dean moved towards us, trying to pick me up and help me get away. Mary was buying us time.

"You need to teleport us out of here." Dean insisted. I shook my head.

"I can't." I cried. "I can't." I had to be here for the spell to finish, I had to have proximity. I could die and be fine, as long as I was close by, but if I teleported away? That would kill both me and the spell at this point if I even could muster up the juice to get out of here. All we could do was watch as Mary did exactly what she wanted to do - punch the Devil in the face.

Mary landed one more punch, one that would knock Lucifer in to the Rift. He dropped the angel blade, tripping on Castiel… Tripping on his body as he careened backwards towards the Rift.

She was doing it. Mary Winchester was punching the Devil in the face, and going to trap him forever.

I didn't see Lucifer's hand grabbing at her until it was too late to warn her. Dean tried, screaming for his mother, but it was too late. They both fell through, and I felt the last part of the spell finish itself.

The Rift closed without a single sound, leaving Mary Winchester and Lucifer trapped on the other side of it.

"Mom, Mom! No!" Dean and Sam were both shouting now, Dean running towards where the rift had been as Sam stayed with me, watching through watery eyes.

"Mary!" I screamed. It was useless, though.

They were on the other side, and we couldn't get to them.

"No!" Dean shouted, looking from where the Rift had been to Castiel. "No. No, no, no, no, no."

Sam looked up at something in the house, and looked back to me. "I'll be right back." He promised, rushing inside. I stayed where I was for maybe a second more before I started crawling back towards Castiel's body. Dean didn't see me until I was closer, and he didn't stop me. Instead he helped, lifting me up to put me next to Castiel. That was when he saw the extent of my injuries. I was broken and bleeding, blood pouring out of me from too many different wounds to fully count. I couldn't heal myself, not anymore. I was... I was dying. I could feel it.

"No." He shook his head. "Not you too." He begged.

I couldn't answer him. I couldn't stop crying. He layed me down gently next to Cas, and I did my best to curl towards the angel.

"I'll get some… some bandages from the house." He promised, looking around. "Where's Sam?"

"Inside." I croaked out, recoiling at another injury. I didn't even know where this one was, there were too many. Just that they hurt. They hurt so much. "Please, Dean. Let me die. It was supposed to be me." I shook my head, reaching to grasp as Castiel. My arm broke as I did, and I didn't even remember when or where or how my arm had ever broken. Maybe it was just… That my body couldn't take anymore. "It was supposed to be me." I still reached, with my arm fighting me every step of the way, until my hand was over his chest.

"No, no, you're… you're going to be fine." He promised. "I'll get you fixed up, just let me go get Sam and we'll… We'll drive you to a hospital and we'll fix you." He ran off then, towards the house. I just stayed where I was, one hand on his chest and the other reaching for my pocket. He couldn't be dead. No. This had to be the other him, there had to be an other him.

But as my free hand reached the stone, I felt it. I felt the ice and coldness emanating from it. Cas was… Was…

Was dead.

"No." I whispered, bowing my head in to his shoulder. "No Cas, no. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Cas. No, please. Please." I kept crying against him, letting go of the rock to instead reach for his hand. "I'm sorry, Cas." That's all I could say, all I repeated. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please. No. I'm sorry.

I heard a shot fire off, and a few seconds later a pulse that radiated within the house. I froze, uncertain of what was coming. There was only one thing that could do that, now. Only one thing that existed, and was able to fire off the kind of energy I felt.

I heard footsteps in the grass maybe minutes later, headed in my direction. I didn't move, I couldn't have if I wanted to. Instead I just waited.

If I was going to die, I was going to do it beside Castiel. The footsteps stopped right behind me, and just stayed there for a minute.

"Kill me." I dared the Nephilim. I didn't know what he'd done to Dean and Sam, and I couldn't care. "Do it. Please."

"No." He replied, his voice… Older than I expected, and surprisingly soft. "Father would not want me to."

So instead, I felt a hand press against my back, and I… I don't know.

I was out cold.


	48. Letter to the Readers

**Hey all! WriKai here! OMG First things first I can't believe this thing almost hit 50 chapters. I don't know whether to be proud, apologize, or do both. So thank you all for sticking through this much, and I'm extremely sorry for dragging it on so long. Season 12 was just SO GOOD, you know?**

 **In other news, the next installment will be titled "The Last of Us." I'm planning on releasing the first chapter next month, both for the next installment and possibly for Believing in the Bizarro! If any of you want to see a sneak peak of what Believing in the Bizarro could entail, please message me or leave a review on this chapter. If enough people are game for the preview, I'll either post it here or message it to those who really, REALLY want this and who have been sticking by me and encouraging me since Believing in the Impossible.**

 **Thank you all so much, as always, for being absolutely amazing! I hope you all are still enjoying what I put out!**

 **Sincerely,**

 **WriKai**


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